Moments Seen and Unseen
by Montreat11
Summary: Belles perspective of moments that we have seen and the missing moments we haven't seen from her life and relationship with Rumpelstiltskin. Beginning with her deal and ending with Rumpelstiltskin leaving for Neverland. R/R.
1. Authors Note

The following story was written before the start of season three. When it was being published the chapters were originally out of order, since finishing it I have reordered the chapters so that they are now in chronological order. This makes certain scenes easier to find. However, because of this, if you are reading through chapter by chapter you might find some repetition, which served to help set the timeline and previous plots when everything was jumbled up.

Lets just consider these next few paragraphs the answers to the FAQ I get about this story.

This story begins, obviously, in the past at the moment Belle meets Rumple in her fathers palace. There are not so many made up moments in the past section because I assume we'll get more of it little by little in the season to come. Nevertheless there are a few where I have taken the liberty to assume certain parts. I want to keep this story cannon so there might be some minor updates made to it as we go about season three (because I'm that much of a perfectionist). So if I find out that my assumptions are just plain wrong or need to be tweaked I'll change and tweak, but hopefully they will be minor and not need an entire chapter deleted (in particular I'm thinking of the chapter where she gets her blue dress, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it).

The present memories are season two and the additional two scenes from season one where Belle has her memories. These scenes are about half and half, half made up half from what we saw, because of that it should be very easy to figure out what episode your in on the timeline. When it's not I'll make a notation. Also concerning timeline, I remember the creators stating in an interview that we should assume an entire year takes place for every season (I don't believe it either), so that is the reason that I describe things in "weeks and months" instead of "days and weeks". Once again, if they correct it, so will I, but I doubt they will so I did try to leave it ambiguous.

Concerning the "present" storyline. You will find no Lacey scenes here, reason being I wanted to write from Belles perspective. My theory is that considering what she did as Lacey, and what she said, she'd probably not going to want to look back on her time as her any more than she has to, and in a very early interview the writers seemed to hint that was what would happen. Therefore, there will be a companion story to this, but it won't be a sequel. I've gotten a lot of requests to do Lacey's stuff. What I'm planning then is for the companion to feature Lacey and Mr. Gold's short (thank God) story. However, I will not begin to post it until December, once the long winter hiatus. Why the wait? Because frankly while I have some ideas for Lacey, I am kind of waiting to see if Belle will say anything else about her that can help fill in some of the blanks. Like I said, I doubt she will, but still, my inner perfectionist is lazy and doesn't want to have to redo to much of it.

The story will be titled Moments Missed. Look for it in December.

I'm pretty confident I'll do this again for next season, and figure out how to make the time line insertions work somehow. I foresee this piece as the first in a series that I'll write and followed by any other seasons that follow. But, honestly, it depends on how interested I am, and how interested ya'll are in it. Let me know if you like this one and have an opinion about it and we'll see what happens. I would hope, and think, that it would be a lot shorter since there would only be one season instead of two to cover. In my own defense I didn't know how big of an undertaking this story would be (when I originally started it was forty chapters, not over one hundred). It was just something I always wanted to read and got sick of waiting for, so I hope you enjoy it!

Until the next time, happy reading! Peace!


	2. Once Upon a Time

She had taken lately to reading in the war counsel room. No one seemed to notice her, or think much of her being there, if she sat in the corner and read a book. But it wasn't just so that she could read. Secretly she could listen to what was happening with the war. It seemed sinister, to have to spy like this, but if she didn't, she knew the answers that she would get when she asked about what was going on in the world. "Oh never you mind, Princess. I'm sure your father and Gaston will take care of it." She hated that answer. And if there was anything her days of sitting here had proved it was that they were not taking care of it. They had reached the end of their rope, the options were gone, and they all seemed to be anxiously and nervously awaiting the results of their last hope. She could feel the tension, probably because she had heard of this man that they'd sent an offer to, and she wasn't sure if hope was how she would describe him.

Suddenly the door to the room opened and there was an intake of breath, which was quickly released as one of her father's soldiers came in. It wasn't him. Everyone gathered around the table, holding a map of her father's kingdom. Even she shut her book and clutched it to her chest as she strode over to listen carefully. No one noticed. The soldier placed a note into one of the advisors hands. "Sir, there's news from the battle field," he unfolded the note and paused for a moment, it was bad news, she could tell from his fallen face. "Avonlea has fallen," he said letting the words drop from his mouth and sink into their bellies like rocks in an ocean.

Her jaw dropped and she looked around the room over to Gaston, who appeared to be choosing his facial expression based on what everyone else was doing. It didn't surprise her that it was taking a moment to process in his mind. But everyone else, they all knew just the same as she did: this was bad. "Oh my gods," she heard her father mutter tonelessly, in shock.

"If only he had come," Gaston said darkly, finally catching on.

"Well he didn't, did he!" her father yelled at him over the top of her head. She knew he wasn't actually angry at Gaston, that boy could do no wrong in his eyes, he was only disappointed and disheartened at what was happening to the world he had built. He walked away from the table, discouraged and hopeless. "Ogres are not men!" he tossed over his shoulder, before slumping down onto his throne.

"We have to do something!" Gaston said, offering little but the reminder of failure "We have to stop them!" The words were poorly chosen. Of course they had to do something to stop this, but when every option was exhausted it seemed hopless. Her father knew this, it was why he suddenly looked like a very old man instead of a man of noble blood. She couldn't let him give in this easily. He had to keep hope. For all they knew the last chance they were waiting for just hadn't shown up yet. It was a long shot but it was more hope than any of the other brave soldiers in the room seemed to have. She set her book down and stepped easily around them then sank down next to her father's defeated form, taking his hand in her own.

"They are unstoppable," he muttered.

"He could be on his way right now, Papa," she reminded him, trying to inspire some kind of hope. But the expression on his face never changed.

"It's too late my, Belle," he muttered "it's just too late." She felt useless. She wished she could do something, wished that there was something that would help the situation. But she knew there was nothing to be done. Even if she did have a spark of an idea, no one here would listen to her anyway.

Suddenly something pounded on the door, startling her, and everyone else in the strained room. Her heart leapt with something that resembled excitement and nervous energy. For the possibility that someone else could do what she couldn't. "Its him! It has to be!" There was no one else that they were expecting, which left only one possibility at who was knocking. She didn't care what she'd heard about the monster, if he could ease her father's mind and save her village then no matter what he asked would be worth it.

Her father stood and they approached the door together. "How could he get passed the walls," he muttered, almost nervously. "Open it!" he yelled at the guards who obeyed thoughtlessly. The tension seemed to heightened as she clutched her father's arm and heard Gaston draw his sword cautiously; the only thing he really knew how to do. But as the doors opened she stared in confusion, they all did. There was no one there.

"Well that was a bit of a letdown," they all jumped at the unknown voice, and turned quickly to see a man, no, creature really, sitting on the seat that was supposed to be her fathers. He gave a playful giggle as they stared, like something was funny but no one in the room jested with him. Everyone stood stalk still, taking in the sight of him. He looked like a man, well he had the body form of one: two arms, two legs, a head full of hair, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. But his skin, his skin was a strange color, gold, slightly greenish even. And his eyes, they reminded her of a lizards eyes. Cunning and shifty, like they could see straight through her and pick up on every detail. She found herself trying not to sneer at the strange man, if she could even call him that.

Gaston pulled his sword and approached him. "You sent me a message," the stranger said in a high pitched voice "something about 'Help! Help! We're dying! Can you save us?'" he mocked giving them a childlike smile. She glanced at her father. This! This was really their last option? "Now the answer is," he stood, glaring at Gaston, paying no heed to the sword in his hand "yes!" he batted the weapon away like it was made of wood, "I can." He tossed a tower from the map, that she hadn't noticed that he was playing with, at one of the advisors. He caught it but only just barely. No one seemed to be able to focus on anything but this creature.

She couldn't help it; she was impressed with the way that he commanded the attention in the room. She found herself wishing that she could do that just as easily, she wished she could make people listen to her. "Yes I can protect your little town," he continued, his tone changing ever so slightly. He walked around the table and suddenly pointed a finger at her father "for a price," he said maliciously. No wonder his tone had changed. She knew that his 'protection' wasn't going to come cheap. Clearly he'd never heard of doing something for the common good just because it was the right thing to do. This was a good kingdom with good people, but if he was going to demand payment, they would pay it. They would have to, the kingdom was looking to them for help, they wouldn't ignore them.

"We sent you a promise of gold," her father insisted, seeming to find his voice and stepping up to him.

"Ah! Now you see, um, I, uh, make gold!" he said like it was the most obvious, idiotic, thing in the world to suggest. Now that she thought about it, it was. Even she had heard that much about him. "What I want is something a bit more special," she didn't like the tone of his voice, it make her stomach turn nervously. "My price," he paused "is her".

Her? Her?! Was he pointing at her?! She couldn't tell because he had barely seemed to notice her, just like everyone else in the room. But from the way that her father was now looking at her, and the way Gaston had put his arm out in front of her told her that she wasn't mistaken, he was talking about her. "No!" her father said, less than convincingly. It was a strange feeling. No one had ever noticed her before, but now they seemed to all be staring at her. And the way some of them were looking at her sickened her, like she wasn't a woman or even a person any more, but collateral. Some of them were actually considering this! Her heart was jumping erratically. Never had she thought that she'd ever think Gaston was a suitable husband, she'd grown up with him and just didn't see him that way, beside other reasons. But compared to this man…well, Gaston wasn't the worst person she could be forced to marry.

Apparently she wasn't the only person thinking this, because after a moment Gaston chimed in speaking with his usual dull monotone. "The young lady is engaged…to me!" he said possessively.

Rumpelstiltskin gave another childish giggle. "I wasn't asking if she was engaged!" he said moving around them, still paying her no attention. "I'm not looking for…love" he said the word like he was disgusted by it. If he didn't want her in that way, then what did he want her for? He answered her question like he could read her mind. Could he? "I'm looking for a caretaker," he corrected "for my rather large estate." Her nerves eased at the words, and she found herself thinking about the offer. It didn't sound too bad. Certainly not terrible. Caretaking. That meant what? Cleaning? Cooking? She could do that. Well, she couldn't, but she could learn. And it wasn't like he was asking her to marry him. But the smile on his face, it made her uneasy, what was the reason behind that smile? "It's her or no deal," he said, coming to the bottom line.

"Get out," her father ordered in a less than forceful tone. Rumpelstiltskin smiled, still not looking her, and it was beginning to bother her. If he was going to include her in on a deal, taking over her future the least he could do was look at her, maybe even ask her. "Leave!" her father ordered loudly. Suddenly Gaston's arm hit her around the throat and pushed her back out of the way, like she didn't have the sense to move on her own if she was in the way.

"As you wish," he muttered before slowly walking toward the door. She watched him go, watched their only hope walking out of the room. From somewhere deep down she heard a voice in the back of her head ask if this was how she wanted to live the rest of her life. A princess that no one listened to, no one paid any mind to, and no one really cared about. To be married off to Gaston, produce an heir to the throne, and be forever known as the pretty face beside the King. And that was if they could win the Ogre War. What would happen if they didn't? What would become of her then? Of her father? Of their people? What would their life be like? Would they even survive? Would their kingdom?

"No! Wait!" She called suddenly feeling every eye turn to her once again, looks of shock written on their faces. Even the man, the creature, Rumpelstiltskin finally turned to look at her. She took a deep breath and removed Gaston's arm before walking away from them and standing before the reptile man. She looked him over once, and then swallowed hard trying to find her voice. Only a few words, she only needed a few words. She had to say them and it would be done. She had the courage somewhere, maybe if she did the brave thing she would find that she could be brave. Maybe she could be the hero, just like the men in her books. But she needed the words first. "I will go with him," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. The room seemed to explode.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled.

"I forbid it!" Gaston insisted

"No!" her father muttered shocked.

Something in her snapped, irritated with the way she was treated and how they thought they should have more say over what she did and didn't do in her life than she did. "No one decides my fate but me!" she turned to shout at the two of them. "I shall go," she said turning back to the creature before her, her outburst silencing the two of them.

"It's forever dearie," he commented with childish glee.

And though it required more strength than she thought she had, maybe some good would come out of this. If she was going to be used as collateral, then she was going to give the say so. She thought of the village, the families, the children, all the people that would benefit if she did this. She wouldn't be a Princess anymore. She'd be less. Prisoner forever. Caretaker. She could learn. She could figure this out. She had to, for them, and in a strange way she couldn't understand, for herself as well. But she had to be sure first. "My family, my friends, they will all live," she stated her expectations clearly, leaving no room for loop holes, no room for him to fool or trick her, as she'd heard he often did. This was her deal now, it wasn't her father that could save everyone, it was her.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a small innocent bow "You have my word." Fortunately for him, she knew that he didn't break the deals he made, just exploited them. But she couldn't think of anything else to say to make sure everything was covered. So, if he said it, if he was giving her his word, then it was true. And if it was true. Then her fate was really sealed. She pushed the regret, the what ifs, the possibilities out of her mind, and managed to find the right words once again.

"Then you have mine." She didn't leave room to mourn "I will go, with you, forever."

"Deal!" Rumpelstiltskin giggled more gleefully than before and jumped up and down excitedly. She watched him curiously. This was it then, this was her new future. She remained stone faced, not allowing anyone to see any of the emotions passing through her right now.

"Belle," came her father's voice. "You cannot do this," she turned to him and rested her hand on his chest, trying to keep her face brave and not cry. She'd been separated by her grandmother by force of death before, and now she was voluntarily doing it to her father. She had to be brave for him, after all, this was for him. He would remain, he would live, he would continue to rule. That was all that mattered. "Please," he begged "you can't go with this," he glanced over her shoulder to the creature about to take her away from this life "beast" he spat at him.

"Father, Gaston," she looked at the pair of them, she'd known them both her entire life, and cared for them both, no matter how dull and stupid she thought Gaston had grown up to be, no matter how demanding and controlling her father could be. Separating from them wasn't easy, but it had to be done. "It's been decided," she said firmly, trying to tell him that things were not going to change. Their desperate pleas were hopeless.

"You know," the sinister voice muttered behind her, she could hear his footsteps coming ever closer to her, feel him lurking just over her shoulder. "She's right." She glanced at him, still wearing a face of undistinguishable emotion. "The deal is struck!" he said it in a way that made her stomach flop. But looking at her father she could tell that it had gotten the point across to him. It seemed to have killed his hope, she only wished that some day he would realize that she was doing this to give him hope. "Oh! Congratulations on your little war," he taunted needlessly, only making the difficult situation worse.

She wished she could explain, that she had time to make it better, to tell him good-bye, and how much she loved him. But before she knew what was happening she felt a hand at her waist, gently pulling her away from him, and one at her back, pushing her forward, leaving the end of her old life and the beginning of something new.


	3. Terrible Endings and Worse Beginnings

He escorted her out of the palace, out of the home that she had known her entire life. No one came after her, no one cried her name, or fought for her. They had simply stood by and allowed this to happen. She didn't know if she was happy or sad about that. On the one hand she didn't think that she would be able to force them to let her go, and she wasn't sure if she could bear to watch what might happen if they tried to stop him from taking her. But on the other hand she was somewhat flabbergasted that they didn't even try. Not Gaston, not her father, he hadn't even sent one of his soldiers to try! Sure they had argued, but in her mind actions always spoke much louder than words.

He kept his hand at her back the entire way: through the halls, around the corners, in the grand entrance, and finally out the door. And before she knew it home was at her back. Outside waiting for them was a carriage, pulled by two horses, but without a driver. He pulled the door open and his accent suddenly changed from the cheerful childlike one he'd had upstairs to a strange one that she heard peasants in a forest, whose name she couldn't remember, using. "After you!" he exclaimed giving her a graceful bow that she figured was more to mock her than be respectful. He offered his hand to her, but she didn't use it. Instead she climbed into the carriage on her own. She wasn't a princess any more, she was just a lowly servant, and it was better if she got used to that now rather than later. He loaded himself into the carriage and sat opposite her, then with a hand gesture she heard the horses whinny and the carriage rolled forward.

And so it was the end. She remained stone faced. She didn't shed a tear. Not when she had left the palace and not now as she watched home shrink into the distance. She refused to take her eyes off of it until she could no longer see it. The end of one life the beginning of another. She glanced at the thing sitting across from her and was surprised to find he was staring back at her. The tiny pupils in his eyes watching her almost curiously. She stared back, unwilling give him the slightest thought that she was afraid of him, because she wasn't. He was startling, and his reptilian gaze was disconcerting but frightening?! No, he didn't scare her. He couldn't. Nothing he could do would ever be worse than what he had already done, taking her from her family, her life, her home…surely death was far more merciful than this man. "Where are we going?" she asked bravely, when she realized that neither of them were going to give up their gaze or blink first.

He gave another nasally laugh, "Home!" he responded before bursting into his childlike laughter. No, it wasn't. Children laughed naturally and uncontrollably, his was the exact opposite. Forced and controlled, like he thought that he had to say something funny and he was going to laugh at it so that she would think it was funny. Or that she would be frightened by the vague idea of the unknown. It was as if he was trying to put on a persona, as if he was trying to make her think that he was someone else. He was hiding something. There was something more there beneath the laughter, the accents, beneath even the deals that he had made.

But she wouldn't dare tell him this, wouldn't share her suspicions with him. Who knew what she could expect from Rumpelstiltskin, it would probably be better for her to just start to collect these observations, to gather the knowledge up and store it for safe keeping. The problem was that he seemed to be doing the same thing. His eyes bored into her like he could read her mind and see through to her soul. It didn't scare her, it was just…uncomfortable. "And how far is that?" she asked, wondering how long this showdown would go on.

"Oh, never fear, dearie," his voice lost its accent and went so low it was like he was trying to sound as dark and terrifying as he possibly could. "We shall arrive in no time," and once again the high voice had reappeared. Only, thankfully, after he answered her question he turned his head to gaze out the window. Was he conscious of these strange mood swings? Or did they just happen maybe? It was like he had a million different people in his head and couldn't decide which one of them that he wanted to be. Did he know who he wanted to be or what he wanted to do? Had he known that he wanted to take her with him before he'd even set foot in their palace or was it a last minute decision? Had he just looked for the most precious thing her father had in that room and stumbled upon her? Or was there a reason he wanted to take her? What could that reason possibly be?

The hours seemed to pass by both slowly and quickly. In fact she couldn't help but wonder if it was magic that was causing that feeling. That thought made her uncomfortable. She knew that he was magical, she'd not only seen it but she'd also heard the rumors and tales of the deals that he had woven together all across the land. But somehow she suspected that it wasn't the same kind of magic that she read about in her books. This felt darker, more evil than that ever had. She didn't know how that worked, she didn't even know if it was possible. Although magic did exist this was the first contact outside of her fairy tales that she'd ever had with it. It was because of this that she knew that she had no proof to her suspicions, just a feeling that she was right.

And on and on the time went. It certainly didn't feel like "no time" as he'd said but there was still that strange sensation of time passing too quickly and too slow at the same time. They had gone through forests, villages, and now they were on a dirt road leading up into the mountains. She could feel the air around them chilling as the open carriage rattled up and up. The sun was beginning to sink over the mountains and she was wondering how much longer it was going to be. It hadn't been this cold yet when he had taken her away from her kingdom as winter had only just begun to arrive. But the mountains would be colder. He hadn't let her take anything with her. Nothing. Not a change of dress, not a personal item, and most desired at the moment, not even a cloak. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm her fingers which were just now beginning to feel icy. She wouldn't ask to stop. She wouldn't ask if he kept a blanket. She didn't want anything from him. She didn't need anything from him.

Suddenly she looked up as he gave another hand gesture. She expected the horses to slow, but they didn't. Instead, what the gesture seemed to cue was the loud groaning sound that met her ears. She looked around. He was watching her again, but she didn't care, she was curious. As it turned out the groan came from two massive wooden doors that stood as the opening into a large piece of land surrounded by a large wall. She turned in her seat and looked ahead of her. The horses obscured her vision, but she could see it. The dark gray image of a shadowed castle was rising up to meet them, growing larger and larger as they got closer and closer.

So this was her new life, her new home. This was what she had traded her village's safety for. It didn't seem too bad. It was a big castle. For sure she wouldn't have to face him all that often. Something this big must have a hundred different rooms in it, and a thousand nooks and crannies in it. She could survive this. She would spend her time as far away from him with as little contact as possible. She would only see him as much as he required, and then she could retreat and create a little oasis for herself. Surly she could manage that.

She'd been expecting them to go around to the stables or where ever it was that he kept the horses. If she was lucky perhaps they would become her responsibility, her new friends. But instead he stopped the carriage at the great front doors and got out. Just as before he held out his hand to help her down and she felt herself automatically reaching out to take it, without giving it a second thought. Habit. But it was probably a good thing. She was so busy staring at the castle around her she might have tripped or fallen if it wasn't for the steady hand he'd offered.

As soon as she was out, he wasted no time. He left the horses where they were, perhaps they would be back for them later, and walked swiftly and confidently into the castle. The doors swung magically open for him and closed behind her with an unnerving clunk, sealing her fate and her escape. No turning back now.

He continued to walk and she continued to follow, doing her best to look around the entrance hall. It might have been grand once but it looked cold. The gray stone surrounding her was dark and gloomy, not even a small bit of the dying light outside managed to make its way into the room. A dusty table sat in the middle of it, a vase with dry dead flowers sat at its center. Any happiness or compliment they had once given the room had disappeared from their green veins long ago. She knew what she wanted to do in this room first. New flowers. At the very least they could keep away that musty smell that the dust carried with it. And maybe they would do more. Maybe they would provide a little bit of happiness in the days that followed. That was if he would allow her free reign of the castle. She hoped he would, otherwise it was going to be a very long eternity.

"Keep up with me dearie!" he chimed from ahead. She realized that while she'd continued to follow him, in her efforts to look around the room she was lagging behind and quickly picked up her pace and fell in step behind him once more. The tall white doors in front of them once again opened on their own to a room that was not much better, but at least it wasn't worse than the entrance hall. It seemed warmer, but that could have been due to the fire lit in the grate. It blazed to life like it had always burned and she wondered if that was controlled by magic too. It was large, the walls were painted red and there were strange objects all around her: suits of armor at the doors, a spinning wheel in the corner, no doubt where he spun the golden thread he made, a rotting hand, a glittery looking stick, and two strange dolls that made her stomach turn. She quickly averted her eyes, preferring not to look into their wooden ones.

She'd fallen behind again. There would be lots of time, forever really, for her to look around and explore her new surroundings, for now she had one task, one order, and that was to keep up with him. The long dusty table could wait for later. And so, she quickened her steps again, catching up to him quickly. But she still couldn't stop her ability to see and she spotted a lone candlestick and clock against the far wall on a table. "Where," and a single, solitary chair sitting by the fire place, "where are you taking me?" she asked, and a cabinet full of dish items at the far end.

"Let's call it," he said menacingly, but with a strange smile on his face as he turned to look at her "your room."

That caught her interest. She had a sudden flashback to the room that she had left vacated at her father's palace. Her warm blankets, her soft mattress, the cream inviting color of the walls, and the friendly books that she had left behind perched perfectly upon their shelves. She felt a great rush of homesickness wash over her at the thought. She'd never see that room again, never sleep in the bed, never read the books, but at least all her hope wasn't gone. She doubted she'd ever be as fond of her room here as she had been at her father's palace. But at least she had a room instead of just a couch or floor to sleep on. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad after all.

He led her out the door on the other side of the room and down halls and sets of stairs made up of tan stones. They too were dusty, and had the smell like water had somehow gotten in and never dried out completely. At the foot of the stairs she heard another door swing open and as she arrived down she peered inside.

Her heart dropped. This was a joke, a prank surly. But as he continued to watch her and not say anything to the contrary her fear was suddenly confirmed and her jaw dropped. The tears that she had managed to hold in until this moment suddenly threatened to spill over her eyes. "My room?!" she accused and asked, part of her still hoping that somehow this was a joke. He was smiling, but it wasn't a friendly sort of smile.

"Well it sounds a lot nicer than dungeon," he piqued.

Before she could shout "NO!" at him and refuse to enter the small space that held only a wooden bed frame she felt his hand on her and he gave her a shove into the space. It had all happened so fast she didn't have time to fight it. Once she had finally gained control of her body she was able to turn around just in time to see him physically close the door and hear the snick of a lock that followed. Through the thick door she could hear the shrill laughter that he gave and his footsteps dying away. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't have been what he had meant.

"You can't just leave me in here!" she screamed at the door. But no answer came. "Hello! Hello?" Nothing. From a room fit for a Queen to a dungeon fit for a prisoner. Now she was truly alone.


	4. Two of a Kind

She'd banged on the door until her hands went numb, until she realized that this wasn't some kind of joke, as the childish laughter after he'd shut her in had suggested. So this was her reality. Once she had come to that devastating conclusion she found herself shrinking onto the floor, her body resting against cold stone and hard wood, she pulled her knees to her chest and wept, for everything: her father, her home, her friends, her books, even a tear for Gaston. She hoped that it would be worth it, she hoped that her town was safe. Her life was over, but it would be worth it if one day many eons from now an old grandmother would sit in a rocking chair and tell her grandchildren how she and her family and friends were saved by the courageous acts of Princess Belle. She shuddered as she realized that the story would probably end with "and she was never seen again."

Suddenly the door supporting her back clicked and opened unexpectedly and she found herself gripping the stone wall to keep from toppling over, and falling right against him. The sight of him standing in the door way startled her, and she scrambled quickly to her feet wiping her tears away. While she had seen him as harmless in her father's palace and even on the way here, that had all been before he'd thrown her into this dungeon like a common criminal, and she felt a growing sense of anger toward him. She still didn't fear him, judging by how everyone else on the war council had acted around him she knew that she very well might have been the only one not afraid, but his very appearance was still so shocking to her that it made her silent. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

"Come! Come now, dearie, we don't have all day!" he cackled turning on his heel as she was still straightening her dress and walking away. She really wasn't in the dress or shoes to be running after anyone. She really wasn't in the dress or shoes to be a glorified maid either, but she managed. For now it was all she had, all that remained of her previous life. If he complained about it then he would find himself in the middle of a fight to the death to keep herself together.

He didn't say anything else. Instead he led them down a set of stairs and through a number of hallways, not once did he stop to say anything or explain. She tried her best to memorize the way, although so many of the halls looked alike it was difficult, but she thought she could find her way back to that dungeon, and from there to the door she had first come through. She was only a few passage ways away from the exit, and somehow that made her feel better about the situation. Not that she would run away, she wouldn't risk him going back on their deal, but she felt less trapped and out of place knowing the exit.

Finally he stopped outside of a wooden door, and she found herself panicking for a moment, wondering if this was another prank, another dungeon or worse that he was going to toss her in. The dungeon wasn't pleasant but surely it wasn't the worst place that "The Dark One" had on his property. As he opened the door she glanced around his shoulder to the inside. It was a kitchen, much like the one they had at her father's palace, only this one was not bustling with maids performing various activities. He moved away suddenly, and she jumped at the sudden motion. He seemed to do that a lot, she was going to have to get used to that was well, she supposed. "I shall take my tea upstairs!" he said in a funny voice that almost laughed in its own way. She didn't understand the joke. He disappeared the way that they had come and she was suddenly left alone in the kitchen.

She stepped into the area, her new work space, and examined it. It was dark, except for the fire in the hearth. A table and a cabinet of dishes and china were present, they were clean but dusty. There was an old chair by the hearth, and the smell of fresh food was everywhere. It wasn't much, but it was all she had to work with. Tea was a good place to start. It was simple and basic, and it gave her a chance to snoop around while she was waiting for the water to boil. She found a lovely tea set, white porcelain with a blue leaf pattern and trimming. It was beautiful, but it wasn't what she had expected for someone like the Dark One, she expected something colder, less delicate. It just didn't seem like it belonged here. "That makes two of us," she muttered examining one of the tea cups as the water finally came to a boil.

Everything ready she grabbed the tray and started upstairs, heading for the room that they had passed by on her way in. She was happy she'd paid attention on her way down, and it seemed to pay off. Soon enough she'd found her prison cell again and after a bit longer the same red room, where he sat at the end of the long table. Again, the sight startled her and she found herself stopping dead to stare at the beast before her looking into the fire. She hadn't meant to stare, and she knew it was rude, but somehow she really didn't care for formalities after he'd locked her in a dungeon. "Come now dearie I don't bite!" he called in his unique childish voice "often," he added with a smile. Another joke, that really wasn't all that funny, to be frank. But nevertheless it succeeded in startling her into work again and she carried the tea tray into the large room, head held high. It was incredibly inappropriate for a servant to do, but she wouldn't let herself forget that she was a princess, it was in her blood, and she wouldn't let him take it away from her.

"You will serve me my meals," he ordered "and you will clean the dark castle" he continued as she set the tray down. Then again it was hard to remember she was a princess when she was being ordered to do things that had never been her responsibility, things she'd never done before and had never imagined having to do. There was going to have to be a lot of learning involved in this process, she just hoped that he understood the situation well enough, and wasn't banking on her being an expert on it just yet.

"I, I understand," she muttered, trying, at least, to sound respectable.

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing."

She glanced up at him as she poured the tea "yes," she nodded, dusting didn't sound terribly difficult and she had seen her own maids wash the linens in the grounds outside her window weekly, it didn't look that hard.

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel."

"Got it," she nodded again. All she had to do was put some straw in a basket, not a difficult task. She smiled, cleaning she could pick up quickly, dusting would be a breeze, and gathering straw wasn't exactly hard labor. The laundry and cooking would take some time, but she'd been served enough that she already knew how to serve. All in all, it wasn't that bad.

"Oh!" he piped, his voice becoming more childish again. "And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts." The air left her lungs and her belly turned, she didn't have much in her stomach but she felt like it was a good thing considering she was doubting very much that she could keep it in. There was no way that she could do a task like that! It was just too evil for the likes of her. She was trying to run but she couldn't get the message to her stunned legs to move when he smiled and whispered "that one was a quip," he corrected with a strange little snicker, "not serious, he added like he was proud of the way he had shocked her.

A joke, just another meaningless joke, hardly funny, but as the feeling of shock left her body and she started to breathe again she found herself smiling. Not because it was funny, because it most certainly wasn't, but because she couldn't believe she'd fallen for something like that. Her father used to tease her like that all the time, although never with such grotesque tasks, but if Rumpelstiltskin had been hunting and skinning children she was certain that would have reached her ears rather than his penchant for deals. It was a silly thing to have fallen for. It would appear that there would be more to learn than just laundry and cooking, she had to learn him too. She had to learn when he was joking and when he was serious. In a situation like hers it could be the difference between life or death.

"Right," she breathed, suddenly aware that the cup she was holding was no longer in her hands, and that she could feel wetness from her dress. In her shock she had dropped the tea cup and spilt its contents on herself. She glanced down and spied it lying under the table, trying not to realize that her beautiful dress was now stained with the brown substance. She stooped down the pick up the cup and her heart caught in her throat, she'd broken it. "Oh, my," the beautiful tea cup had a chip in it. It wasn't that big of a chip but she'd seen servants get struck for less. She swallowed as she examined it, better to tell the truth and apologize, than to let him find out for his own one day. "I'm so sorry, but, ah, it's, it's chipped." He was already leaning over his chair to see what had happened. She held it up for him to see, trying her best to manipulate the angle so that it didn't look as bad as it was. She risked a glance up at him, still sporting a smile and staring at her in a strange way. She couldn't tell if he was angry or upset with her. "You, you, you can hardly see it," she commented when he didn't respond to her, certain that if just being here was enough to get her locked in a dungeon then a piece of damaged property was enough to get her whipped for sure. She'd never had to worry about such things in the past, and now that she did she found herself wondering how she was going to live with the constant pressure of that hanging over her head.

"Well it's just a cup," he said suddenly, his voice lower than it had been before. She waited for a moment, expecting him to burst into maniacal laughter or tell her that he had been joking, but he didn't. When she looked back up at him she was surprised to see that he didn't look angry at all. He looked astonished, amused even. Like he couldn't understand why she was making such a big deal over a simple tea cup. She smiled with relief. It was ok.

She quickly poured another cup and stood in the corner while he drank waiting for him to announce that he was finished. But he never did. Instead, he simply rose and wordlessly left the room, leaving her to clean up. She took the tea, cups and all, back down to the kitchen, once again thinking that she was going to have to find a quicker way down at some point. Once she set the tray on the table she released a breath she hadn't known she was holding in. Her world was caving in on her, but she had to keep reminding herself that it would be ok. New didn't always mean bad. All she needed was a good night's rest to put her mind at ease and then she'd take it one day at a time.

She glanced over at the tea cup sitting on the tray. As she examined the newly chipped cup, she couldn't help but smile as she shook her head. They were two of a kind: two beautiful things that didn't belong in a place like this. She ran her finger over the fragile edges of the chip. It would be easy to place the cup up on a shelf, retire it, but somehow that thought saddened her more than anything. It wasn't broken, it was just chipped, it wasn't in a place that that would affect its use. She set the cup back down on the tray, putting it back to work, back where it belonged. Maybe like the cup she would come through this and realize that she wasn't nearly as broken as she seemed, maybe she too was just chipped. And judging by the reaction he'd had after she dropped, she found herself thinking there might be hope here after all. Maybe he wouldn't mind her learning curve as much as she feared he would.


	5. The Nature of the Beast

She had gone to bed upset again. The start of the week hadn't seemed so bad, not even when she had chipped that silly tea cup. But as the week wore on her patience had been tried. It hadn't been bad when he'd locked her in this time but as the darkness had claimed the cell and her mind had traveled back to her comfortable bed now left vacant, she couldn't focus on anything pleasant. All the negative thoughts, the sadistic actions, and demeaning situations weigh heavy as a thick blanket against her body. She was cold, her dress smelled, she wanted to run a brush through her hair, the pitiful excuse for a bed and blankets were uncomfortable, and she couldn't find a way to sleep that didn't put pressure on her body in uncomfortable ways. The light starting to brighten the small cell didn't give her any hope or reassurence, it only told her that she'd had yet another sleepless night and that was the last straw. Her nerves were on fire, she was tired, she was exhausted, and more than anything she wanted to go home.

She had done this to be brave, but yet again she found herself breaking down into gut wrenching sobs that echoed against the walls and in her ears. For the millionth time she asked herself if brave men dying on the battlefields cried. Did Princes preparing to storm a castle for their true loves cry? Did Princesses that sacrificed everything they had ever known cry when the tides turned on them? Well, she knew the answer to the last one. She couldn't control it, and she wouldn't have even if she could. What did he care if she slept? What did he care if she was uncomfortable and wanted to go home? The short answer: he didn't. As long as he got his tea, the castle cleaned, his laundry done, then he had no care for her in the end. She clenched the pathetic blanket between her fingers, crying into it, pretending that it was one of the rich blankets she had been used to in her father's palace. But no comfort came. She didn't have the energy to pretend anymore. She didn't have the energy for anything anymore. And she really didn't know how much longer she could go on like this.

She was going to die here. She just knew it. One day he was going to come release her for her morning chores and she would just be dead, from sleepless nights, exhaustion, and sadness. Death was the only hope for escape from this wretched prison. It would be worth it, though. Her village was safe, and she firmly believed that sometimes to save many that meant the sacrifice of one. But while she waited for the day of her death to arrive she didn't have to act happy about her situation. So she wouldn't stop the tears, even if she wanted to.

From behind her she heard a heavy squeak, and turned around to find him coming through the door. It was odd. Usually he flipped open the lock letting the door creak open, her warning that it was time for her day to begin. But this was different, he never actually came into her prison before. "When you so eagerly agreed to come and work for me," she rolled off of her small bed. She wouldn't face him like this, with tears in her eyes and desperation on her face. No, the beast was her captor, and she would never face him with anything less than a straight back and a face of personal pride. She was a Princess, and she hadn't been enslaved, she'd willingly volunteered. She could face anything he would throw at her, no matter what the cost to her, so long as he didn't undo the deal that her being there satisfied. "I assumed you wouldn't miss your family quite so much," he commented in an annoyed tone.

It didn't make her feel guilty, it made her angry. Of course he would figure that. When she first arrived she had tried to make the best of her terrible situation. She believed he might not actually be as bad as she thought. She had based everything off that one feeling she'd had when he'd showed up at the castle. But as lack of sleep slowly started to cloud her judgment, or maybe clear it, she knew that she had been wrong. He was a monster. What would he know about family and the love a parent could have for his child, or the love that a daughter could have for her father. Monsters were incapable of love or affection or any kind of good there was in the world. He assumed everything, but knew nothing. Her father was right-ogres were not men.

"I made my sacrifice for them, of course I miss them, you beast!" she shouted at the horrific creature. She couldn't hold in her anger or control her tongue. The agreement was that she would be here and look after his home, it never specified that she had to be respectful. If she was going to die here then she would make sure he knew exactly what she thought of him. She would hope that he lost just as much sleep over it as she did.

"Yes, yes, of course" he mumbled, her words having no effect on him what so ever. "But the crying must stop," he insisted. She couldn't help but glare at him and his lack of emotion, "Night after night!" he accused throwing his arms in the air in a ridiculous flamboyant gesture. "It's making it very difficult for me to spin!" he informed her. She could feel the look of confusion and disgust on her face. Oh, was _he_ uncomfortable? Was he also being held captive in a small dark cell?! "I do my best thinking then!" She glanced away from him, furrowing her brow with a rage she could barely keep in control. She couldn't feel sorry if he felt like she had interrupted his life, made it difficult. In case the selfish dealmaker hadn't noticed, she wasn't exactly walking through a field of flowers and sunshine trapped down here every night either. And he should try doing his best thinking when sleep eluded him for three nights as it had her!

They remained there for a few moments, standing in the shared space of silence before a poof of purple by his hand caught her attention. Sitting upon it suddenly was a luxurious white pillow, tassels hanging down from the corners. "Perhaps this'll help?" he asked offering it to her.

"For me?" she questioned, confused by the sudden seemingly kind act. She knew that she shouldn't take it. Nothing good would ever come from anything this creature did or said. But she was tired, and her body felt like it could give out from under her at any moment if she didn't get any sleep soon. It was like offering a piece of poisoned bread to a starving man. But then he didn't exactly give her a choice as he threw the object at her, catching it only before it could slam into her weakened form.

"Not quite so beastly now am I?" He scowled at her as he walked back toward the door.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Actually, that would have been if he'd given her a decent room. Even the lowliest of servants got actual rooms and not prison cells in her father's palace. But still, at least it would be better than sleeping on her arm and waking up to the numbness every hour or so. "Thank you!" she called after him, not allowing herself to feel any kind of gratitude. "Perhaps now I can actually get some sleep" she said with spite dripping from every syllable. She didn't care if he felt bad about the way that he'd been treating her. He should.

"No, no, no" he waved at her, grabbing her attention away from the pillow she was setting on her bed. "It's not to help you sleep," he corrected "it's to muffle the crying so that I can get back to work!" he yelled. For a moment she thought she might actually lose it. She could feel the tears coming on as she was about to scream at him that no one should ever treat another human being like this. She hoped that she had never treated any of her servants so harshly and inhumanely. It would haunt her for her entire life. She sneered at the person before her. Would it upset him if she only ever thought of him in such an evil way? She didn't care. She would shout it from the mountain tops with her last dying breath. He was evil, a demon, and she would never see him as anything more than the beast that he was.

But she would never get to tell him the words that were on her mind. Before she could, something caught his attention and drew it away from her. It was then that she heard what had startled him. It was a noise. Someone was in the castle and from the way he walked out of her "room" quickly it wasn't exactly a planned guest.


	6. Don't You Just Love Magic

Days of long work, nights of no sleep, had completely devoured her hope at ever having a normal life here. People had always told her to never make deals with the devil, now she was sure that it wasn't a deal with the devil they should be worried about, it was the deal with Rumpelstiltskin. At the unfamiliar sound Rumpelstiltskin ran out of her cell and upstairs. She followed, quick on his heels trying not to trip over her long skirts. She was curious. Who would try and break in here? She refused to be frightened of the man before her but that didn't mean that she would ever voluntarily come here or break in. Sure, he had treasures, but she was certain that the risk of being caught would never be worth whatever he had to offer.

She half expected to see an army. Surely no one would be brave enough to break into his castle alone, not without a lot of backup and re-enforcements. But she was wrong. As they worked their way into the main room on the first floor she could see a man, he was picking up the magic wand. She couldn't say she was terribly surprised. Of all the things he needed to try to steal it had to be the magic wand. Nearly everything in his collection was one of a kind, but this, this was different. It was rare, yes, but not one of a kind. But for anyone trying to steal something it would be the obvious choice. The other objects might have some kind of power or magic but the only one that knew how to work them would be Rumpelstiltskin. A magic wand, on the other hand, they were both magic and powerful. And everyone knew it. Finding someone to work it, or learning how to work it himself, wouldn't be very difficult.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Dearie!" Rumpelstiltskin warned with barely a hint of his strange childlike voice. The man looked up and pushed back his hood. He didn't appear startled, although it did appear that he had been too focused on the object to notice them coming in. He stared at Rumpelstiltskin with strange hawk like eyes. On his back, he carried a quiver of arrows and a bow. It was a fitting weapon for the piercing gaze the stranger had.

In the face of the Beast, the man didn't flinch. Instead he smiled without fear and completely removed his hood. Here was a truly brave man. He was handsome too. She was certain that even Gaston would have noticed. But what would he want with a magic wand? "Pretty sure," the man replied confidently, the smallest bit of humor in his voice. He acted like he watched wits with evil creatures all the time.

"If you don't know how to use that wand, it can do nasty things to you," Rumpelstiltskin warned again. It was like he was trying to give the man a chance. To put the wand down and run, but she very much doubted that he would get away even if he let the wand go. The brave man's fate had been sealed the moment he walked in the door.

"Well then, I'll stick to what I know works" the stranger slid the wand into the quiver behind him and exchanged it for an arrow. "Do you know what this arrow would do to you?" the man threatened. She didn't know it was possible, but the sight made her heart drop even more than it already was. What the man thought was a viable threat was actually the man's own death sentence. Faced with Rumpelstiltskin an arrow was nothing. She didn't know why he wanted the wand, but she wondered if the attempt had been worth it?

"Has to hit me first," her jaw dropped as Rumpelstiltskin seemed to suddenly vanish before her eyes. He was running. She could feel the speed of it stir the air around her, and the man turning this way and that trying to pin point his target. Finally he appeared in the room again, over by the far wall. He stood stock still, waiting for the inevitable, "shouldn't be a problem," he stated, taking closer aim. "An arrow fired by this bow always finds its target," he explained with a deep contented sigh, "don't you just love magic," he taunted before taking aim again. He might not have seen it, but she did. The small coy smirk that Rumpelstiltskin was sporting. Magic against magic. There was certainly no good thing that could come out of something like that. She had a really bad feeling when he pulled back the string and released, and she couldn't help it, she jumped.

Her eyes stayed on Rumpelstiltskin, or they tried to until he disappeared again and suddenly reappeared behind the handsome young man. He was safe, or was he? The movement of the arrow caught her eye and she watched, horrified and amazed, as it magically slowed down, and unnaturally did a loop in the air, automatically adjusting its course. Then it picked up its natural speed and plunged itself into his chest. The sound of torn clothing and pierced flesh made her stomach turn. He gave a small gasp of surprise and she instinctually started to run to him, thinking maybe that she could help in some way, although she knew little about wounds and medicine.

The man moved swiftly around him muttering "I know I do," as he marched off, a free man.

She couldn't believe this. Was he going to die? Would he really get away with this as simple as that? What would happen to her? A million questions passed through her head in less than the second it took her to make her way to him. But just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.

"As…do…I!" the scream drew her attention to across the room, where she saw Rumpelstiltskin cut the man off and pull the arrow from his chest and make it disappear with a flamboyant gesture. "But don't you know," he yelled "all magic comes with a price! In your case, that's me," he said menacingly to the man.

She knew that it couldn't be that simple. For a beast such as he to be taken down so quickly by an arrow was laughable really. And the man! He just stood there! It was as if he was still surprised that it hadn't worked in the end. She wasn't afraid of him. But she was scared for the man. She knew he wouldn't, but she found herself wishing against hope that he would let him go. There had been no harm done! He had never been in danger! He could take the wand back! All could be forgotten! He could let the man go!

She waited, and thick roped suddenly burst into existence in a haze of black smoke and coiled themselves tightly around his legs and arms, even around his throat, cutting off any noises that the man could make. She watched horrified as Rumpelstiltskin removed the man's quiver and pried the special bow out of his fingers. As the man writhed there on the floor, helpless, he took the wand out and placed it back on its perch, heaving a sigh of what looked like relief that his precious collection was once again complete. It made her sick.

He turned his back on her, but not before she caught the evil glint in his eye. He walked over to the struggling, handsome, young man and bent down before him. "Don't you just love magic?" he taunted with an evil sneer marking his face. He pulled the ropes at the back of the man's neck and with unnatural strength dragged him off toward the dungeons. But not before shoving the bow and quiver into her arms, numbed with shock. "Do something with these," he muttered before disappearing through the doorway, heart wrenching thuds followed as the man's dead weight fell against the hard stone stairs.

She collapsed on the spot, the bow and arrows falling from her grasp and spilling out onto the floor. She gasped, clawing at her chest, panic working its way through her system. She felt like she'd experienced too much in the last hour. Too many emotions. Emotions that she had never felt before, had never wanted to feel, and frankly never wanted to feel again in her life. Tears streamed down her face as the first loud yell of pain reached her ears. The beast truly was a monster.

She hoped that her village was enjoying the spoils of a peaceful existence. Because she was certainly paying for the magic that it had required. She inhaled a gulp of tears but it wasn't enough to keep the broken cry from her mouth. No, she certainly did not love magic. She never wanted anything to do with it again.


	7. A Fighting Chance

She told herself that she shouldn't think of the man, shouldn't pay it any attention. It was his problem not hers. But it wasn't as easy as that. She couldn't stand the sounds of the screams that came from the dungeon. Cleaning the blood off the leather aprons multiple times a day made her stomach churn. And she couldn't live with his pain filled groaning night after night even when he was in rest. It only made her think of her small cell as comfortable and kind. And she wouldn't think that. She couldn't think that. He wasn't kind to give her a cell, it was terrible.

And it only made thinking about what he was doing to the theif even worse. From somewhere deep down she wondered if it was all part of another plan-to scare her, to give her a taste of her own future. Because every time she heard him now, she couldn't help but wonder if her imprisonment would eventually include torture as well.

But for now he was occupied, for now she was safe. And that thought alone induced more guilt in her than anything else she'd ever done. A man was suffering, and all she could do was be glad that it wasn't her. To make matters worse, she realized that she had possibly for the first time since she arrived here slept soundly through the night, her head placed upon the pillow he had given her. The only good thing that came from that the next morning was that she felt rested, she felt clear headed, and she felt stronger, more capable of fighting, rather than rolling over and just letting him walk all over her, or the man downstairs even. She had come to the conclusion, that on the day that he decided he would torture her this way she wouldn't go down without a fight. She'd run, she'd kick, she'd scream, she would do anything to get away, knowing full well that at the end of the day it was useless.

Another scream echoed up from the dungeons.

She kept sweeping, trying not to focus too much on it. Her entire life she had believed that no one was truly evil. Everyone she firmly believed had a little bit of good and a little bit of bad in them. But as another scream rose to her ears she found herself doubting that assumption. She wished it would end. Whatever he was trying to find out, obviously the man wasn't going to tell him or he didn't know. He should have let him go ages ago, not prolong his release.

Suddenly he appeared in the door and she felt her grip tighten on the broom in anger as she tried to look busy, like what was going on didn't affect her. She hadn't prompted the man to steal, she hadn't ordered him to be tortured. She should worry about her own health and the best way to keep herself safe was to do her job. "I'm going to need another apron," he said sounding tired. Good, maybe he would give the man a break. He tossed gloves upon the table she had just cleaned and cleared her throat pretending that she wasn't thinking about terrible and inconsiderate he was. "They're, uh," she winced to see the wet red blood smears on the leather apron he was wearing now "they're on the line," she informed him. What exactly was he doing to him down there? "Drying," she added. "It'll be some time," maybe time enough for the man to recover, or for his rage to cool. Maybe enough time for him to realize how useless and cruel this was. Enough time for him to come to his senses, assuming he had any.

"Fine, fine," he said quickly removing the blood stained apron. "Get to cleaning this one as well," he said tossing it on the table next to the gloves. "I'll be back later," she grit her teeth together as he strode away looking to leave the room. Something in her broke. She could handle a lot. She could take orders, deal with his inconsiderateness, but when they were coupled by the screams of a good person locked away in a dungeon being tortured every time she managed to clean an apron her temper flared.

"All this," she called after him in a stern voice. She wouldn't appear weak. Not to him. If he was going to torture her as well, then so be it. But someone had to stand up for this man. "Because he tried to steal a magic wand?" she asked, hoping against hope that he would see the error of his ways.

"No," he responded predictably, "because he tried to steal from me!" He yelled, turning on his heel and finally looking her in the eye "The Dark One. You try that you get skinned alive. Everyone knows that," he stated. She should feel disgusted, her stomach should be turning. But knowing that was what was happening in that dungeon she felt more than her temper flare. The little bit of courage she had sparked too.

"Actually," she told him clearly and confidently, the smallest hint of defiance in her voice, "no, they don't."

He stared at her for a while. There was a look of shock on his face, like no one had ever dared to speak back to him in that way before. It looked like the surprise from that small fact had thrown him for a loop, he hadn't been expecting that at all. Maybe it was the first time someone had yelled back at him. Nevertheless he seemed to recover quickly enough, saying simply "Well they will after they discover the body," and with a final giggle he left the room.

This time her stomach did curdle. She'd been blind, she'd been stupid, she'd let her assumptions get in the way of her seeing reality. She wasn't afraid of him, and although the thought that he might hurt her was now in her head, she hadn't always thought that way, and she'd never thought that he would murder her. Because of that she'd been simply assuming that he would treat the man the same way. That he would torture him until he had his fill and then release him however maimed and scared he may be. But she was wrong. He wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to set him free. He was going to kill him. That was the only way that this would end in his mind.

The desire for justice, proper justice, stirred within her. She was done with this, with sitting idly aside and waiting for it to happen. She couldn't bear it. She wouldn't. She already felt too guilty about how long she'd allowed it to go on in the first place. There was no way that he was going to let the man pay for this attempted slight with his life. And if he was going to torture her, if he was going to kill her, then at least one of them might make it out alive.

She ran down to the kitchen, happy that she appeared to at least have her common sense. After everything that he'd been through, she knew, he wouldn't make it very far if he was weak. Rumpelstiltskin provided all of the food she cooked last minutes, but she could at least give the man a little bit of water to strengthen him. She just hoped he had the sense not to stay anywhere near here after this. He would have to get as far away as possible.

She opened the door and glanced in, her jaw dropping at the sight. He was suspended by chains bound to his wrists in the middle of the room, he looked exhausted and broken, and blood pouring from his mouth into his beard. His skin looked intact but she wasn't positive if that had been a joke or not. The man managed to swing his body over expertly so that he could look at her. He laughed weakly while she followed the chains and the rope attached to them over to the wall. She could do this. It would be easy enough. She could free him. "Did he send you to finish the job?" he asked with a laugh in his voice. It was different than Rumpelstiltskins laughs. This one wasn't hiding anything. It was meant to show her that he was desperate, that he had nothing else to look forward to than death. He, like her, wouldn't meet his death to an enemy as a weak person. He would meet it on his own terms.

"Ah, no!" she cried, realizing that she'd been staring. "No!" She moved toward him, hoping that he knew that she wasn't associated with him that way, that she hated what he was doing to him. She hoped he realized that she was a kind person. "Here," she held the cup up to his bloody lips "drink this." He lunged forward as much as he could graciously taking the gift she was offering him. Once he pulled back she looked over her shoulder at the device on the wall holding him up. She hoped it was as simple as it looked. "I couldn't let this continue," she explained, setting the cup down and giving the wheel her full attention. "It's inhuman," she commented more to herself than to him but he gave a grateful laugh at her.

"I couldn't agree more," he said with a smile as she began untangling his bonds. "But I fear now he'll turn his rage upon you," he pointed out.

"If he does I'll stand up to the beast that he is," she said confidently, knowing that the words were true. She wouldn't go without a fight. And she wasn't going to let him die without a fighting chance as well. "Because no one," the bonds slipped from her grasp finally lose enough to let him free. He fell to the floor, too weak to catch himself, and she rushed to his aid "no one deserves to be tortured!" She exclaimed. Not him. Not her. Not when they hadn't committed any evil crime.

"Well, he may beg to differ," he commented as she worked on freeing his wrists from the shackles.

"Well, I don't care," she muttered finding that too was true. She hated the things that he did, what he had done to this man, and the magic that he used. She'd let her tired mind and the sounds of torture cloud her instincts, but underneath it all she found that the original thought was still there. He wouldn't hurt her. "He doesn't frighten me," she explained, making sure that she had managed to free him completely. She only hoped he was strong enough to go on from here without her. "Hurry up," she ordered "he'll be back soon." Or later. She had no idea when he would return but she knew that he needed time to be on his way, time to put distance between them. She'd clean up the mess here but this would all be for naught if he reentered the castle only to find her escorting him out. "Hurry," she insisted harshly, helping him to his feet. He ran for the door, stumbling and limping, but sturdy enough to get to safety.

He stopped and supported his weight against the door, then unexpectedly turned back to face her. "But he will," he warned feverishly "he will kill you," he said clearly even through his labored breathing. "Unless," he took a deep gulping breath and she looked around him nervously. Why wasn't he going? Why was he wasting time? Who knew when Rumpelstiltskin would get back? He needed to go now! "Unless you run away with me," her heart fell. He was a good man. She had known it all along. He was simply looking out for her. Looking out for the woman who had freed him. Did that make her his hero? Is that how he would remember her?

The offer was tempting. The two of them could leave, but he was already injured and she was a princess in attire not suitable to run through the woods. One of them out there on their own stood a fighting chance; two of them, one slowing down the other, were bound to be caught sooner rather than later. And besides, if she left, what would become of her village then. The greatest revenge he could take back on her would be to undo the deal they had made. Their safety for her compliance. She didn't want to think about what he might be willing to do if she left. "I can't run," she answered shaking her head at the man "I made a deal to serve him in exchange for him protecting my kingdom and my family from the ogres," she explained "if I were to leave I may survive but my family surely won't."

His eyes widened like he was overwhelmed with the information, but understood it. There was no way out for her, no option, no hope. In his mind, her fate was sealed and he was leaving her behind to die. "Well then, all I can do is wish you luck," he muttered, and she could see that he was truly sorry that he could do nothing to help her out of this situation. It was unfortunate, but that was the way it was.

"Thank you," she said, feeling like she didn't need the luck. After all she had seen, all she'd heard, all he'd done, she still had a feeling deep down in her gut that he wouldn't hurt her. She just needed to remember that, to be confident in that feeling. But she knew that he wouldn't hesitate to harm this man. He had to leave, and he had to go now before it was too late. "Now go," she pushed him onward "go!" He raced from the room and she peered around the corner watching him go. She had done all she could, the rest was up to him now. It wasn't much but at least she had given him a fighting chance at making it out alive.


	8. Having No Fear

He liked to scream and shout. He liked to perform terrible acts just to scare her, but she wouldn't let it get to her. Not like it had that first night. She found that she wasn't afraid of him. She had no proof, no reason, only a feeling that told her that he wouldn't hurt her. She felt like he was using the emotion of fear to protect himself in some way, he used fear to intimidate her, but she wouldn't be fooled, she would push it as far as it would go, testing the boundaries.

After losing so much she had vowed that she wouldn't lose any more of herself than she had to. Days ago, when the strange man had showed up she had consigned herself to an inevitable death. But after freeing the man, she had a new lease on life. She couldn't stop his abysmal behavior toward others but she could help them wherever she could. She didn't know if this was a normal thing, holding prisoners in his castle, but if it was she could be the respite that they needed, the one to bring water and food, and on occasion set them free when they were being held captive without proper 'd done a good thing, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't see it that way.

No, she didn't fear him. But sometimes she wondered if it was really a good thing after all.

When he returned from wherever his errand had taken him he was sporting one of the leather aprons she had fetched from off the line. He started to pick through the tools she had cleaned after she'd freed the man, but didn't seem to pay her much mind. That was fine with her, she'd found a book yesterday sitting out of place on the mantle, now that she had a free moment she took to reading. But the distraction was useless, and she found she wasn't really reading the words. It wouldn't be long until he discovered what had happened and she would learn if her gut instinct was right and just how far he was willing to let her go. Or if she would end up in the thief's place. She would either be dead and that was that. Or she'd be alive…and that was that.

"Well I shouldn't be too long," he said menacingly, acknowledging her presence in the room. The tone once again suggested that he was trying to scare her, but she mustered every ounce of bravery she had inside of her. She couldn't lose it now, there was always the chance she'd need every bit of it soon. "Can't promise the same courtesy from our prisoner," and with that he left the room.

She didn't fear him, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding with anticipation. She guessed she had only a few more minutes until she got her answer. If these were her last moments on this earth then she wouldn't regret it, she'd freed the man, he was safe because of her, her village was safe because of her, if she died she knew that the world would be a better place for some of the souls she left behind because of her. She gazed down at the book in her hands, but still couldn't focus on the words. She was waiting, just waiting. It would happen any minute now…or rather any second.

A loud angry voice suddenly filled the room around her "Belle!" he stormed back into the room. She held her head high and watched him, having to shut down her natural instincts to shrink away from the beast and protect herself. That would be what he expected, it was what he was trying to make her do, but she wasn't going to make it that easy for him. She had no regrets, no matter what happened to her. "Where is he?!" he demanded.

She took a hesitant swallow and deep breath before answering quickly with false confidence, "Gone, I let him go." He stared at her, looking confused and bewildered before his face gave way to contorted rage and anger.

"What?!" he questioned like it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. "He was a thief," he pointed out truthfully, but she wouldn't back down to logic like that.

"Which doesn't give you the right to kill him," she countered her own frustration at the entire situation leaking out of her words. Even if he had successfully stolen something it was certainly not a crime punishable by death and torture!

"It gives me every right," he screamed, making ridiculously large gestures. She could see that he was angry, but it still didn't scare her. She was still here wasn't she, she was still alive, she hadn't been killed on sight. And strangely enough it wasn't fear that she felt; it was irritation. Had he not been in the room she would have rolled her eyes at him. She'd seen her four year old cousin have a fit like this once. Although everyone else had winced and coddled the child she'd shaken her head at the ridiculous tantrum. There were worse things in the world than not getting your way. She had learned that personally. "Oh let me guess!" he continued to ramble "you think he's a hero! Stealing from me for some noble cause! You read too many books dearie! There," with a wave of his hand the book in her lap disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Maybe that will stop poisoning your head with poisonous thoughts."

She didn't know what to do. She was stunned for a moment. Part of her wanted to cry. It hadn't been long since she'd found the book but it had brought her a small amount of joy while she'd had it. She'd already been just as attached to it as she had any of her other books. Now it was gone. It was the one comfort she had here, her one hobby, and it had paid the price for her choice.

But on the other hand, another part of her wanted to laugh hysterically. That was it! That was the greatest punishment that the mighty Dark One was going to subject her to? Take her book away like she was a child and she'd learn her lesson? It was foolish really. Comical. And it told her everything that she needed to know. Her instincts had been right. He wasn't one she had to fear. Others might be afraid of him, others might bend to his will because of it, but if all she had to worry about was a simple slap on the wrist, that was nothing! It made very little sense to her, but if it was working in her favor she wasn't going to question it. She would use it to her own advantage, see if she couldn't soothe the beast so she could have some nice quiet time to go off and mourn the loss of the beloved book on her own. And if he happened to see reason and give her the book back, then that was just fine with her.

"I didn't free him because of what I read in my books," she corrected stubbornly "I saw good in him," he looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language, then again when speaking about kindness, she doubted he really did understand the meaning of the word. "That man only wanted to escape with his life."

"Oh, was that what you thought?" he taunted "Well he escaped with more than his life," he pointed out to her the pedestal upon which she knew the wand sat. Her stomach plunged. It was gone. He had stolen the wand after all. This was bad. She felt her face wrinkle in shock and even hurt. In showing him kindness he had left her to deal with the consequences, whatever they might be. "You were tricked! Foolish, gullible girl!" he yelled at her.

Had she been tricked? The man was good, she could tell, he had wanted to save her too, to take her with him. He knew that she was risking her life to help him. So why would he make it more difficult for her? Why had he wanted the wand in the first place? There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Some reason that made the cost of stealing that wand worth the pain and destruction he knew he'd leave behind. At least, she hoped there was a reason, she hoped that she wasn't the only one to see that. "There, there must be an explanation," she stated, tripping over her words. "We, we don't know why he needed that wand," it was a feeble excuse but it was all she could offer at the moment while she was still processing what had happened.

"He took the wand because he wanted magic!" he yelled, this time she clenched her jaw together in annoyance. He didn't frighten her and she wished he would stop trying to. She was tired of the yelling and screaming. It only made him sound more ridiculous, and arrogant, and self centered. "People who steal magic never have good intentions."

"No!" she found herself yelling back, slightly shocked by her own boldness "no, you can't tell what's in a person's heart until you truly know them." She didn't believe the man was bad, or that he was going to use that magic for the evil that Rumpelstiltskin must have intended it for.

"Oh we'll see what's in his heart alright. When I shoot an arrow straight through it! And because I am a showman," in less than the blink of an eye purple smoke, similar to what had taken the book, filled and cleared his hand to reveal that black bow the thief had come in with. "It'll be with his bow! And because this is your fault you get to come with me and watch and know as the blood drips from his carcass, it'll be you and your rags to wipe it up!" he screamed before leaving the room.

Suddenly she felt terrified. Not because of him, she kept reminding herself that she was still alive and that spoke in droves as to what she could get away with, but she was scared for the man. She was scared for what would happen to him now. Why couldn't he have just left that wand alone?! There had to be a reason for why he had taken it?! She only hoped that the reason was worth his life! It wouldn't have been worth it for her, but she also didn't know the situation that required it. From across the room Rumpelstiltskin looked back at her. "Come come now dearie we don't have all day!" he beckoned, his voice suddenly cooler and collected. His personality shifts happened so quickly sometimes they caught her so off guard she felt dizzy.

Stifling her frightened tears she moved slowly over to him, following him out the door, only slightly aware as the fire magically put itself out as she passed by it. Freeing the man had been the right thing to do. She only wished she had thought to hide that blasted wand before she had done it. He might be willing to excuse her, give her a free ride for her actions, but this man was going to die, unless she figured out a way to stop him. But looking at the beast marching ahead of her, she hadn't a clue how to do that.


	9. The Voices of a Thousand Years

He led them quickly out of the castle and out the front doors. The chill of the harsh mountain weather made her skin pucker with goose bumps. Before her, suddenly, was a carriage pulled by horses, like the one that had originally brought her here. She knew for a fact that he didn't have any life stock anywhere on the grounds, she'd looked for them when she first arrived. But their sudden reappearance didn't surprise her, she was certain that his breed of magic could conjure just about anything. He opened the door and indicated with his hand that she should get in. Looking behind her at the warm castle she was leaving behind regretfully, she made an effort to cover her bare arms with her hands. It wasn't the first time that she'd wished she'd been able to grab a few of her belongings before he'd taken her away from her regal.

"Come dearie, you've given the thief enough of a head start already!" he ordered with his high squeaky voice, the comment was clearly made to make her feel some kind of guilt or shame. She wanted to yell at him, to shout, and insult him with every breath she had, but a night of good sleep and the sheer fact that she was still alive after the moment he found out she'd freed the prisoner was enough to make her think that just yelling and screaming at him wasn't going to free the man from this hunt. He was determined to find the man and if she was too irritating to him then he would leave her behind and go on without her. She had to be on that carriage, she had to show him that it was not worth it to go after the thief.

So with an irritated sigh, she squared her shoulders, still shivering from the world around her "you do know this is madness don't you," she spat through gritted teeth as she boarded the carriage. He offered a hand to help her, just like he had when he'd taken her away from her father's palace. This time she hadn't let old habits get in the way and ignored it.

"You'd be surprised how often madness is mistaken for justice," he commented taking the seat opposite her and closing the door. With a hand gesture the carriage jerked into motion and they were off. "Make yourself comfortable dearie, we've got a long journey ahead of us," he said closing his eyes and leaning his head back, like the idea of going after a man to kill him was all needed to have sweet dreams for the rest of their travels. She shook her head at his nonsense. She had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing back at his ease with some kind of retort.

The weather was a fair distraction. It wasn't winter yet, but it was chilly enough. There was a cross breeze coming into the open carriage and it let the cold air wash across her exposed skin. She crossed her arms across her chest trying to keep her body heat. She really was in the wrong kind of dress for a journey like this. "Easy to say when you at least have the courtesy of a jacket," she muttered to herself, making the mistake of thinking that he was asleep.

He wasn't. He opened his eyes and they raked up and down her for a moment before he scooted forward. "That!" he said suddenly with a flourish of his hand, "is an excellent point!" Suddenly she was surrounded by a puff of purple smoke. It dissipated before she realized what it was and had time to move away from it. When it cleared away she saw that she was wearing a thick cloak that covered her shoulders and traveled down the length of her gown, adding weight and heat to her lap as well as sheltering her bare skin. There were slits in the front that allowed her arms to stay free but they too were covered with warm leather cloves that ran up to her elbows. She turned her arms around and over the cloak, noticing that it even had a hood.

She wanted to be angry at him, to be upset with him, but she'd been raised better than that. Better to rebuke someone when they did something kind and polite. She wouldn't have frozen in the carriage, but she would have been very uncomfortable for the rest of the journey. "Thank you," she muttered bitteryly as his head fell back against the carriage again, comfortably. He didn't respond to her. She couldn't help but stare at him as she let the cloak warm her skin and bones.

No one was that evil. It just wasn't possible. She had thought maybe he was an exception, or so close to being purely evil that it would be hard to tell the difference. Was he that evil? Or was it just a façade? Was there really more to him than what he appeared or how he acted toward the world? Maybe that was the reason that he didn't scare her. She'd always had a sixth sense about people, about who was good and bad. She had doubted that instinct when she first saw him because she hadn't gotten a sense that he was evil or that she should fear him. But maybe she had been right after all. Was there more to him than he appeared? She needed to believe that. She needed him to believe it if she had any hope of freeing the thief from his wrath.

They continued on their journey. Out of the mountains and into a forest. For the next day or so their journey was easy and predictable. When the horses needed rest, they stopped. When they got hungry, there was food. When they passed wells and springs, they drank water. They said very little to each other. Usually he just spat an order to her, "Eat", "drink", "sleep". He left her alone when she needed it, and always, always, he held out a hand for her when she had to get in or out of the carriage. It was something so gentlemanly that it was hard to believe he would do it. But even if they weren't talking, she was watching, she was observing, noting that the farther they strayed the lower his voice got, losing its normal high giddy tone.

It was like he was two people. The high-pitched, giggling, funny voice, the one that changed accents, that was the voice of the beast. The voice of someone who knew more than he let on, who had secrets, and a terrible temper. But the lower voice, the monotone voice, was the serious voice. The voice that belonged to what he was underneath the mask he was wearing to the world. It was that voice that belonged to the person who held the hand out for her, gave her pillows and cloaks for warmth and comfort, and had allowed her to live after doing something so unforgivable as releasing the thief. The voice surprised her so much that she wondered if he was even conscious of the fact that he was using this voice around her. And after a time learning the difference between these two voices, she found herself thinking a strange thought. What if there wasn't just another beast, or creature, underneath his mask. What if there was a man underneath the harsh exterior? No one was that evil, maybe he wasn't, and maybe the evil had simply taken root into what might once have been a kind and good heart. The thought shocked her. And it also gave her an idea.

The beast might not want to let the thief go, but would the man?

Suddenly something caught his interest and he looked around the woods that they were in "I'm losing track of him," he muttered, like it was something that she should have been concerned at. "This forest is too thick," he complained agitated.

"Maybe we should return home," she suggested innocently enough.

"What and let the thief escape?" he asked her, using one of his funny accents. If there was a man hidden under there somewhere it was under layers and layers of time, secrets, and terrible deeds. And she wondered if it was even possible for him to be recovered. "What would people think if I spared the life of someone who stole from me," he told her using his serious voice. But he didn't mean to threaten with his words, he was looking at her like he was trying to teach her a lesson, to see reason. To him this adventure made perfect sense. But she was certain, she wasn't the mad one in this carriage. It was her that needed to show him reason.

"That there's actually a man hiding behind the beast," she argued back, standing firmly in the hunch that she had, the suspicion.

"There isn't," he responded quickly.

"Then why didn't you kill me when I freed the prisoner?" she asked smartly.

"Ah, well I would have, but, ah, good help these days is really hard to find," he argued back intelligently.

He seemed just as skilled with his words as she was. But she wasn't going to stand down, not with the man's life on the line like it was. And besides, he almost seemed to be enjoying the banter between the two of them. And when she asked him about why he hadn't killed her, he had responded with the voice she associated with jokes. Which meant that he hadn't told her the truth about why he had spared her. "I think that you are not as dark as you want people to believe," she confessed "I think that deep down there's love in your heart, and for something more than power" he was looking at her like she was crazy but also with a certain amount of fear. Had she got it right? Had she uncovered a secret?

Suddenly he leaned forward slightly "You're right," he said in his low voice. "There is something I love," she could have smiled. She had the sudden urge to sit next to him, to take his hand and learn about everything that he really cared for. To coax it out of him until he understood that she was a safe person to tell all his secrets to, because she would never tell another soul.

But just as suddenly as it came it was gone, leaving her stunned at her own thoughts and feelings. Where had that come from? She shoved the idea from her head quickly as she could. It didn't matter he had something to tell her, she could tell in the way he was leaning in closer to her. She did the same, curious about what could occupy the space in a heart as black as his seemed to be. It had to be something grand, something powerful. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, urging him to tell her. But instead of telling her honestly he suddenly exclaimed "my things!" in the false voice that said he was lying. The original was true, there was something that he loved, but it most certainly was not his things.

She sat back in her seat, disappointment making her shake her head at him. She was foolish to think that he would tell her the truth, to have expected anything less than a joke from him. The way he treated torture and death it probably was a joke to him. He held up his hand and she heard the horses whinny as the carriage slowed to a stop. They were still in search of the thief, and if there was a man under all those safe layers he had built around himself, she was having a hard time seeing him. Her hope of saving the man was dissipating every second. "You really are as dark as people say," she sneered. She hadn't meant for it to come out. It was just a thought that popped out of its own volition. But she found herself not regretting that she had said it.

"Oh darker dearie," he told her in a whisper that was equal parts lie and truth. She didn't know what to make of the comment or of that voice. "Much darker," he added as he made to exit the carriage. Maybe this truly was hopeless.


	10. Not that Kind of Deal

She didn't want to be here, and she was giving up hope that she could change the beasts mind. She knew that getting him to see himself as more of a man than a monster was the key to saving the thief's life, but she was having a hard enough time believing it herself at the moment. And then, he stepped out of the carriage taking the bow with him and offered his hand to her, to help her down. She knew she should hate him, and she wanted to more than ever, but every time he did something that angered her he countered it with something that gave her a small glimpse of something more than beast in him. He yelled, and gave her a pillow. She released the prisoner, and he didn't kill her. She chipped a cup, and he hardly paid it any mind. They were small, but great enough to keep that flicker of hope, that the man they were chasing might be saved.

She stepped out into the middle of a forest. In front of their driverless carriage was a greasy looking man on a horse. He had a small caravan of guards with him and they were escorting a carriage of their own with bars on the windows. Prisoners. As they approached the man gave them a menacing glare and dismounted the horse. He staggered losing his balance, then reached for a flask on the horses saddle. She really hoped they weren't going to be talking to this man. He smelled like he hadn't bathed in ages and his staggered gate told her exactly what was in that flask. That same instinct that told her Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't hurt her now told her to stay as far away from this man as she possibly could.

Despite her hopes she watched as Rumpelstiltskin walked up to the man, his own gate changing as he did. Instead of proud and certain, he stooped low suddenly and cast his eyes to the ground. "What are you doing in my woods!" the stranger yelled at the pair of them, doing his best to strut proudly toward them.

"Pardon the intrusion Sheriff, ahem" he took on a funny irregular accent, like he was a beggar instead of the powerful dark monster that he was. A Sheriff. The man was a law man? He certainly didn't look like a respectable sheriff, nor did he appear to act like one. "I'm looking for a thief, he attacked me with this bow" he gestured at the bow in his hand and the Sheriff looked at it with interest "I chased him as far as these woods and then he vanished."

"Yes I know exactly who your after" he said examining it, but then he glanced up at Rumpelstiltskin and looked him up and down, like he had forgotten all about what they were talking about. Living in a drunken haze could do that to a man. "But I also know who you are…Rumpelstiltskin."

Her first instinct was to panic. She didn't know why he had wanted to keep his identity secret but now that he knew who he was she expected that the plan had taken a turn for the worst. But as she watched him, he didn't panic, his back straightened and the fake accent he was sporting suddenly fell away. "My reputation precedes me" he flourished his hand "excellent" he said almost happily

The stranger smiled, but not in a friendly way, it was a snide sneer "yes, as does your penchant" the man gave a hand flourish of his own mimicking Rumpelstiltskin, mocking him. She thought that it was a foolish thing to do, but then again he didn't strike her as an intelligent person. "For making deals," the man had said the magic word and she watched as Rumpelstiltskin took a small step closer to him, interested in the thought of making a deal with the man. "I'll tell you where you can find your thief, if" she eyed the man suspiciously. "If?" he was earning less and less respect every second. He was the town sheriff, charged with protecting the people, if there was a thief about he should be happy and eager for help catching him, not making deals to get what he wanted and allow others to take justice into their own hands. No, she didn't like this man one bit, he was far too slippery for her trust. "You give me something in return" she watched as the man took a drink from his flask. He was probably the poorest excuse for that sheriff that she had ever seen. He was by far more crooked than half of the criminals she had met in her life. But Rumpelstiltskin was hooked and she watched him step toward the man and gestured for him to come closer with his hand.

"What do you want," she heard him whisper.

Suddenly the Sheriff looked up at her. Her stomach rolled, she'd felt sure he hadn't the sense to even notice that she was there. But now he pointed in her direction and she didn't even like knowing that she was on his mind. "A night with your wench" he slurred.

Her jaw dropped and she took a small timid step away from him, meaning to go back to the carriage, but couldn't get her legs to work. How dare he even speak the thought?! She was a princess! She was a royal woman of noble blood! She was a…she was his property. That was the deal that she had made to save her village. Her life was no longer her own, her choices, her desires, weren't up to her.

Fear wound its way up her spine and put a chill in her blood. She was vaguely aware of Rumpelstiltskin looking back at her. Was he actually considering this? She knew how much he wanted to find the thief that had stolen his wand, he had obviously wanted to punish her for letting the man go, but this was extreme even for him. Was he really going to allow such a thing? Was she? No, she wouldn't just go with him, but she was afraid that her options were limited. She could run. No, he'd find her. She was beginning to think that she wouldn't be able to find a place to hide that he couldn't find if only he looked hard enough. But certainly whatever punishment he would give her for running away would be more welcome than what this man would do to her if she went with him.

"Ah," her heart sped up as he began to speak, knowing that the next words could seal her fate. "She's not for sale," he said. Relief hit her, shaking her free of the paralyzing fear she'd felt only moments ago. He had said it with certainty, the smallest amount of shock in his voice, like he was surprised that he would actually ask for such a thing. Surprised that he thought he would just give her away like that. He had said that he loved his possessions, maybe he wasn't the worst person she could belong to.

The Sheriff gave a small laugh. "You can't part with her for say an hour," he was gazing at her again, the way that a predator would watch his prey, and she felt embarrassed and exposed the way his eyes were raking up and down her. "Twenty minutes?" He wouldn't give this up, even after Rumpelstiltskin had made it clear who she belonged to. He sickened her. The fish she'd eaten this morning turned dangerously in her stomach and she just wanted to be away from here, away from him. Far, far away.

Rumpelstiltskin remained silent throughout the man's useless bartering. But then he put his hand to his head "let me think," he muttered and for that moment fear crept back into her and she seriously considered running from them both, but then with a flick of his hand he drew thick black smoke from the man's mouth. She watched in horror as the Sheriff suddenly started to gag and choke and made useless grunting noises. Rumpelstiltskin gave him a playful giggle, and it was then that she saw that the man's tongue lay in the palm of his hand. "I propose a new deal," Rumpelstiltskin suggested with a hint of malice in his voice. She didn't know he felt this protective of her. Why would he? She was only his property. "I give this back to you," he said holding up the disgusting organ "and in return you tell me everything you know about the man I am hunting," he insisted in a snapping voice. This deal wasn't optional. He was going to get what he wanted whether the man complied or not. It was made perfectly clear, but she watched him as he humiliated the man further, holding the tongue up and waving it in front of his face. "You ought to be more careful with your possession!" he taunted shaking the vile thing. Ordinarily she should feel angry or disgusted at his actions, but she was still reeling from the suggestions he had made. She just couldn't feel anything more than disgust for the drunken lawman. She wondered if Rumpelstiltskin felt the same way.

"Do you agree to my terms?" he asked coyly, as if the man had a choice. His eyes were wide, reminding her of a bug as he attempted to answer him. "What was that" Rumpelstiltskin asked, taking joy in the man's suffering. She would never say it out loud, but, secretly, she thought he deserved it. Being bullied might give him a taste of his own medicine and make him think twice before he tried to force his will upon another woman, or anyone else for that matter. The man tried to speak, each time more and more desperately, but all he could manage was a grunt. "Oh I'll take that as a yes then!" and in a flash of black smoke and a haze of coughing the organ was returned. The man breathed heavily and pinched the body part between his fingers a few times making sure everything was back where it belonged. Rumpelstiltskin pointed at him "Start talking," he ordered, a hint of threat behind the words.

"The man who you're after," the sheriff offered quickly, like he couldn't get the words out of his mouth fast enough "I've been chasing him for years" he pointed to himself, his anger seeping into his voice and replacing his fear "He ruined me!" he screamed, "he stole the woman I love, and made me the laughing stock of all of Nottingham" she seriously doubted that it was all the thief's fault. Knowing this man and how he had treated her and disrespected the honorable job he possessed, the thief might have done something to him, but she could see that his heart was black. The faults to the Sheriffs life no doubt came from a problem with his soul.

"Where can I find him?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, happy he was getting what he really wanted. She was happy too. The faster they found out the information the faster they could leave. It also meant that she'd have less time to convince him not to kill the thief but she wanted to be away from here so desperately she didn't care.

"Last I heard, he was hiding out in Sherwood Forest" the Sheriff explained diligently.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and took a step toward the man. "And his name?" he asked with a curious whisper.

"Robin Hood," the Sheriff answered, spite dripping from his voice "He goes by Robin Hood."

Rumpelstiltskin turned back to her, a smile on his face and left the man standing there without another word. The Sheriff didn't seem upset, he seemed happy the encounter was over and could be put behind him. But he cast one last glance of regret at her that made her back away from him with a sneer on her face. It made her so sick that for a moment she thought she might actually be. But then Rumpelstiltskin was there in front of her. He placed a protective arm around her waist turning her away from the beast before them. Their backs turned on the man and the arm was replaced by a gentle steadying hand at the small of her back as he led her back to the safety of the carriage. Although she had thought she was to upset and too disgusted to ever let him touch her, she found that with the sheriff standing behind her, she was thankful for it. In fact, it was almost comforting. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't the worst thing lurking in these woods. Maybe the worst just came in prettier wrapping.

He offered her his hand again, helping her back into the carriage before getting in himself. After a moment the driverless carriage jerked to life, and she looked out the other window not even wanting to throw the sheriff a backward glance. The situation could have been much worse, and she was happy to leave it behind. "Thank you" she muttered, truly meaning it for the first time, as they rolled forward. Those two words weren't enough to express how incredibly grateful she was that he hadn't traded her for the information. But her sincerity would have to do for now.

"I don't make those kinds of deals," he muttered in the low serious voice, and casting her a strange look before avoiding her eyes and looking out the window as well. Who would have thought that he had a moral code of ethics? She would have thought that he'd make a deal with anything that breathed. She smiled, he was more of a man than they both thought. And if she wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have something of a soft spot for her. He wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't trade her. Now she knew that it wasn't just a hope that there was a man behind the beast, it was the truth. The only question was if she could find it again, and figure out how to spare Robin Hoods life.


	11. Wearing Off

They hadn't traveled far before the carriage had stopped and he'd helped her out again. Then, before she had any time to process what was happening he was taking off into the forest, the prospect of completing his mission encouraging him every step of the way. She took off after him, the prospect of stopping him from completing his mission encouraging her own steps. "You can't do this!" she called after him, trying desperately to do anything to slow him down. He was fast and she wasn't exactly dressed to be running through the forest.

"I can and I will" he responded, throwing the words at her over his shoulder, there seemed to be no stopping him. She was running out of time, and that meant that so was Robin Hood.

"But it's wrong!" she called out.

"So was his decision to steal from me!" She rolled her eyes. She'd heard that excuse from him too many times on this journey and it was wearing thin on her. Justice had nothing to do with it. He was doing this for revenge, plain and simple. But somehow she knew that pointing that out to him right now, wasn't going to help the situation.

"But there must be a reason why! Something we don't know."

"If he truly needed it, he could have made a deal, just like everyone else in this realm who wants something from me."

She couldn't help but snort at that comment, "Because making deals with you always works in favor of the other person." Her dress was caught on a branch and as she yanked the fabric up she heard it tear. She grit her teeth together trying to remind herself that the dress was already stained, and it wasn't what mattered now.

"That, Dearie," he said, spinning around to meet her judgmental gaze "is the…" suddenly he got very quiet, she looked him over, confused at what was happening. Then she heard it, the loud whinny of a horse and the rattle of carriage wheels. This was it, she'd run out of time. He turned and walked forward, she followed.

"You know, it's still not too late to turn back," she told him. But if he heard her it didn't appear to have any impact on him. He was listening for something. The horse again. "You know I'm not going to stand by and watch you kill a man!"

"Well you're welcome to sit if you like!" he exclaimed turning back at her with irritation in his voice "but you are going to watch. That's the whole point of our little expedition, remember," he turned and began walking timidly in the same direction again "to see what your actions wrought." Funny, she thought this was about getting that stupid wand back. She didn't care if he was sick of listening to her, or if she annoyed him. She couldn't give up.

She heard another faint whinny off in the distance and her heart beat again. Had he heard it? When she turned back to face him it appeared that it hadn't mattered. Something else had caught his attention. It appeared that they'd arrived at the top of a steep hill, and looking down below them she saw Robin Hood. He was here, leaning against a tree, out the in open looking around. The stolen wand was visible in his hand. Was he hoping not to get caught or was he waiting for something?

"Found him!" Rumple said loudly enough for her to hear but not enough to break the silence in the wood and alert the man.

She heard the sound of hoof beats again, and the sound of wheels turning. He looked in the direction of the carriage they'd been hearing and his expression changed. "He's, he's waiting for someone," she pointed out, watching him look out for the sight of the carriage. As soon as she saw the single horse pulling a flat cart behind it round the bend he took off for it. Before their eyes, the two faceless men that had been pulling the cart quickly unhitched it and mounted the horse before riding away at a gallop. The cargo appeared to be a person, a woman. Even from far away she could see that she was deathly pale, wrapped in blankets, and she was coughing. The deep hallow sounds of each hack shaking her body carried up to the hill they were standing. "That woman," she muttered staring as Robin Hood seemed drawn to her side.

"That must be the one that he stole from the sheriff," Rumpelstiltskin clarified. It didn't surprise her that he would only pick up on the negative. Once a thief always a thief. Truth of the matter was, after her own encounter with the disgusting man, she very much doubted "stealing" had actually taken place. If it were her, she'd have gone willingly. Women were not property they had emotions and feelings and treating them like they were property or a tradable commodity was not the way to win a woman over.

Another chopped, labored, cough reached her ears. Robin Hood gently brushed the hair off of her fevered white face and gripped the wand in his hand, looking her over like he was trying to figure out where to start. At her side she could see Rumpelstiltskin fiddling with an arrow in the enchanted bow, preparing to take aim. She wasn't giving up! She reached out and covered his arm with her hand, forcing him to lower the weapon. She had to make him see. "She's sick, she's going to die," she wasn't a doctor but looking at the woman, it was obvious that she didn't have a lot of time left, she already looked like death.

"And so is he," he muttered trying to raise his arm again.

"Stop!" she yelled forcing his arm back to his side again. He was waving the wand over her body, and suddenly it all became clear to her: why he wanted the wand, why he would dare to break into the castle to get it, and what made his entire ordeal worth it. Watching the expression on the woman's face when he met her gaze only fueled her suspicion. He really hadn't stolen her away; he'd just fallen in love with her. True love was something that everyone dreamt of, and if you were one of the lucky ones that found it in your life time anything was worth it if you got to keep it. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't so heartless that he was blind. Surely he had to see this too.

She watched, amazed, as he swept the wand down her body, slowly her coughing became less and less severe until it didn't even appear that her breathing was labored, and as it climbed back up her body her coloring started to return, her skin turning olive, her cheeks pinking, even her hair took on a healthier gleam. The two of them smiled at each other, looks of happiness etched into their faces of relief. She couldn't help but smile too. It had been hard to remember the good in people since she came to serve Rumpelstiltskin, she had started to think that maybe she was wrong, that people were as black or white as they seemed, but Robin Hood gave her hope. There was good and bad in everyone, it was only a matter of finding it.

"I'm right about him, about why he stole the wand!" she said more for herself than for him, but it appeared to have caught his attention "he did it so he could heal the woman he loves," she knew that she was moved by his actions but didn't know she'd been moved to tears. It was a beautiful and wonderful act of sacrifice, tears were appropriate.

"He's still a thief," Rumpelstiltskin countered.

"She would have died if he hadn't stolen your wand," she yelled at him, her contempt for this entire journey dripping from her words. Hadn't he figured out how absurd this entire thing was?!

"And now he gets to die!" he shouted back at her "and she can tell all of Sherwood Forest what happens when you cross Rumpelstiltskin! There!" With a flash of his hand it felt like the earth had disappeared out from under her. She gave a gasp and tried to brace herself before she realized what had happened. She was buried up to her waist in the ground. She tried to pull herself up out of the hole he'd place her in but the more she struggled the more it felt like the dirt and soil held onto her. She couldn't move. She couldn't fight. She was helpless. "That should give you a good view!" he taunted, his hand still raised.

He wasn't wrong, from where she was she could still see the two of them, but from here she could do nothing to help. Her fingers curled in anger against the ground. She wanted to yell at him, shout all her angry and frustrated words at him. But that wasn't going to help anything. He would let her go eventually, but the fate of Robin Hood relied on her ability to keep calm and use logic. She'd seen good in him before, when she'd chipped the cup, when he didn't kill her after she'd released Robin Hood, and when that ridiculous excuse for a Sheriff had tried to trade information for her. That was the Rumpelstiltskin that she needed to find, not the monster before her now. Harsh words would only goad him on. This required delicacy. "You don't have to do this!" she told him as he positioned the arrow and drew back. "There's good in you," she knew that he was listening, he hadn't released the arrow, so he had to be listening to her words. "I was right about the thief and I'm right about you," he remained still.

She was suddenly distracted as the woman on the cart jumped up dropping the blanket and swishing her long cloak back. Her stomach churned. The woman's belly was swollen and round, the stakes had just gone up. "Look! She's pregnant!" She watched as Rumple lowered the bow and arrow staring at the two of them. He did appear to have a heart. Whether it was the woman or her words she couldn't be positive but something had caught his attention, something had softened him. That she could use to her advantage, and in this situation she had to use every bit of help she could get. "You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless," if she was any indication, he had a penchant for protecting the innocent. The child was innocent, she needed him to realize that.

Robin Hood helped the healthy woman down from the carriage, and the happy couple embraced like nothing was wrong, like everything was perfect. They had no idea just how close danger really was. She thought that she had him, thought that they were getting somewhere, but before she had time to stop him in one quick movement he pulled back the string, took aim, and released. "No!" she cried after the arrow, wishing that it could hear her words and turn back. It whizzed through the air, but instead of killing Robin Hood, it buried itself in the cart the woman had arrived on.

Robin Hood and his bride looked around them frantically, but couldn't see the two of them on the hill. He muttered something to her that she couldn't make out with the distance and then the two of them fled to the horse and mounted quickly. Her heart hammered and shock made her eyes widen. "What happened?" she asked glancing up at him, still trying to put the pieces of what she'd seen together in her head.

"I missed," he muttered, disappointment in his voice. The sound of the horse's hoofs pounded in her ears as it galloped off carrying the two of them to safety. She could do nothing but stare as the pair left. It had all happened so quickly. With another gesture suddenly her feet touched something solid, and the pressure against her belly disappeared. With a breath of relief she realized that he had released her from the hole and been set on solid ground. "Get back to the carriage," he ordered watching them disappear into the fog, "I'm bored with this forest."

"You're, you're not going after him?!" It seemed too good to be true.

He shook his head slightly, "He's not worth the efforts."

She felt like she was beaming, happiness and pride counteracting the fear and shock she had experienced only a moment ago. She wasn't wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed. "You spared his life," she pointed out, trying to hide the surprise. But the smugness in her voice was evident. She couldn't help it. She felt, strange as it was, proud of him.

"What?!" he asked like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, but as she approached him she could see the look on his face, hear the false shock in his voice. He was good. He was dark too. But there was goodness in him. She might have been the only one in the world to see it. It wasn't much, but it was just enough. Enough to give her hope for the days and years and the eternity to come. "I did nothing of the sort," he insisted.

He was trying to cover it up, but it was too late, she had seen all she needed to. He couldn't hide from her any more. He could pretend that he was dark, evil, and sinister. But there was more to him than that, and she wasn't going to just let it go. He'd given her liberties before, protected her, given her allowances, maybe he would allow her just a few more. He had once said that she was special, exactly how special was she? Special enough to show him that he was more than he thought? Special enough to prove to him that there really was good in him? "That bow has magic in it. It never misses its target." She pointed out blankly, wondering what he would do to worm his way out of that fact.

"Well, perhaps the magic just simply wore," his annoyed voice caught in his throat as he turned to face her, looking down at her from his slightly high place on the hill. His emotions, his thoughts, were hard to figure out. He looked surprised almost, like he had just realized something important. Was it the goodness in him? And what had made him change his mind? Was it the woman? The child? Dare she even think that maybe she was special enough for her words to have sunk into him? Was it her?" off" he breathed, finally finishing his sentence.

She felt her mouth twitch, her will to keep her happiness to herself failing. Something had worn off, but it wasn't the magic in the bow. She didn't plan for it, didn't know she was going to do it, and didn't have time to think whether or not it was proper. But she found herself reaching up, standing on her tip toes, and throwing her arms around his neck. He didn't return the gesture, instead took a timid step back shocked by her sudden movement.

She was surprised herself, it didn't disgust her, it didn't even shock her. Even if she was the only active participant, something about the embrace just felt right. The thought made he pull away, knowing that it was making him uncomfortable, feeling strange that it wasn't making her uncomfortable. She smiled at him, instinctively patting his cloak down where she had folded it back. She couldn't help but smile as she turned away from his shocked face. He had walls and defenses, maybe it was time someone broke them down and learned who he really was.

Suddenly she realized that she was walking back to the carriage but she couldn't hear his steps coming after her. She turned back. He was still standing there, looking at her like she completely baffled him. And he still had that same look on his face like he had just discovered a great secret, "Aren't you coming?" she asked her eye brows raised. Her words shook him from his daze and he turned back and gathered the quiver of arrows from where he had set them against the tree.

Looking him over she found herself smiling again. She was special. Could she be the only one that had ever seen him as more than the Dark One? Could she make him see himself as more than the Dark One?


	12. Unexpected Gifts

To say she was glad the journey was over was an understatement. Cold nights, uncomfortable days, the stress of not knowing what was going to happen...yes, she was very glad it was all over. But still she wouldn't regret freeing the man, Robin Hood. Not before Rumpelstiltskin had dragged her across half the realm searching for him and not after he had released him for good. Of course he wasn't going to admit that it was her that had convinced him. He would stick with claiming that it just wasn't worth his while. But it didn't matter, at the end of the day he was alive, and the child that had been within the woman still had a father. That was what was important. The fact that she appeared to have some influence over him was secondary.

She never thought she'd be relieved to see the castle, but she'd never seen something more comforting than the fire in the hearth. She glanced at the bow and quiver of arrows he brought back in with him, a small smirk crossing her face. She'd won after all, and while she wouldn't point it out, she wouldn't forget it any time soon. "Looks like you won't be needing that bow anymore." She hadn't meant it to sound cocky, but it certainly came out that way, and with all the cockiness he displayed on a daily basis she didn't feel any compulsion to correct it or apologize. Considering their situation, she doubted she would ever actually have a comfortable conversation with him, so an apology wasn't necessary. Although if this trip was any indication, she might not be as much a slave as she thought she was. She really didn't know what that meant, but she was going to find out. And for now, it meant that she was just a caretaker, as he had claimed when they first met. She could live with that.

"Actually I think I'll hold onto it," he commented coming to a stop "you never know, could come in handy some day," he said unloading them onto his chair.

It would be going into his collection no doubt, one more item to dust, as of tomorrow. But it wouldn't be a problem for her. To her it represented triumph. It was part of her own little collection, a collection of good memories. They had been all that had sustained her since she arrived. But who would have thought that she would make a one here? Or rather, with him?

She turned back to where he stood, actually looking forward to getting back to her cell for a good night's sleep. "Well, uh, if you don't need me for anything else, good-night, Rumpelstiltskin." Still feeling that smirk tugging on her lips, she walked away to go to bed.

"No wait!" she turned back, worry crossing her face. She hadn't expected there to be anything else. Had she been wrong? Was he upset with her? Had she overstepped on ther previous comment? He wouldn't do anything to her, even if he was upset over everything that had happened. If anything he would just add more chores. She hoped it was nothing that had to be done tonight; she really was ready to spend some time with only herself, even if it was in a chilly dungeon. "There is something else," he added, timidly, then waved over his shoulder and shuffled awkwardly. The look on his face didn't resemble the look he gave for revenge or even anger. It was something else, something she hadn't seen before, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Without a word, he turned and left the room. She followed after him, with curiosity, wondering where he could possibly be taking her. She hadn't been here that long and she hadn't really explored the large castle much. None of the chores that he had given her really required it. His living space to collect his laundry, the kitchen to make meals, the great room to dust, and the line outside for drying, these were the only places that she had ever had reason to visit. Otherwise she sat in her small cell, or the kitchen, sometimes by the fire when he was out, and dreamt about the world outside these walls. She'd been happy to find that book before going out after Robin Hood, it gave her some comfort, some measure of the familiar life she'd led. But she'd survived without it before and she could survive without it now. She'd go back to her day dreams, or maybe start to explore the rest of this castle. Maybe figure out what secrets it held. Maybe she could make it the home she longed for.

And so she followed him, along narrow hallways, passing large open rooms, and up stone stairs. He led her to a tower, the stairs wound up and up so high her legs began to shake with the effort, wondering how long it would take to reach the top. But then the stairs ended and as she came to the top she looked out on a room that made her so happy she thought she might actually cry.

Books.

Books, everywhere!

In shelves made of wood that reached to the roof, some stood tall and proud others looked neglected and broken, their pages yellowed and swollen from water damage, books that were new, and books that were old. She didn't care it was such a beautiful sight that she had the sudden urge to sing and dance, but words seemed to escape her. She thought she'd been lucky to find that one book on the mantle before freeing Robin Hood. She had no idea that there had been an entire room simply stuffed full of her hearts delight!

And that wasn't all. The room she saw before her might look grey and dank now, but she could see through that to a time that it had been simply gorgeous in a fair and common sort of way. Now it held comfy, if dusty, looking chairs. Some had limp, lifeless rags, that had once been beautiful blankets thrown over them, but a good beating and she knew that they would be good as new. The chaise she'd been using in the great room had somehow made its way up here, pillows and all. And on the far side there was even a fireplace that could be lit during cold nights like this one. It wasn't just the library she'd wished he'd had, it was the reading room she'd always wanted, even as a child, even when she was a princess. She felt like she was spinning, trying to take too many of the details in at once, trying to see it all in so short a time it was making her dizzy. This was her new favorite spot. Not just in his castle, but in the entire world. It made her happier than the image of her bedroom in her father's palace. She felt like she'd been made for this room and it for her.

"Temper your excitement dearie" he told her as she continued to gawk at the room, completely and utterly overwhelmed by its glum beauty. "This is just another room for you to clean." She smiled, still wide eyed, the only thought forming in her head was that she would be more than happy to put this room back to its pristine condition and keep it that way. If forever was her fate, then her forever had just gotten better than she ever expected it would be.

"It's beautiful," she finally managed to say, staring up at the shelves, wondering if she'd recognize any of the titles. Was it possible that some of the books she'd missed most were here? And the ones that weren't familiar, what adventures would she find within their pages? Would she ever have time to give each one the delicate care it needed? "There's more books in here than I could read in a lifetime," she blurt out, more to herself than to him.

"Then I hope you can clean faster than you can read" he commented probably meaning to joke with her, but before she could let out a retort of her own a book sitting out on a table that had escaped her notice until now suddenly called to her. She picked it up and began to page through it. It felt good just to have it in her hands, and suddenly she realized that she was fighting back joyful tears. For him? It was the most unexpected thing! He'd given her more than she had ever dreamed, with the only condition being that she cleaned it! That was no condition at all! She'd never been given a gift so beautiful in all her life and that included all the birthdays her father had doted upon her.

She was suddenly aware that he was watching her, like always, eternally curious. With a smirk of his own, he was gauging her reaction but also looking expectantly at her. It was as if he was waiting for something. This hadn't been just a happy coincidence, not after he'd taken the book from her. He wasn't showing her this room just because he expected her to clean it. He was giving it to her. Oh, it was still his of course, but she knew that he was replacing what she'd lost a million times over, giving her comfort. Was this his way of apologizing? Was that what he was waiting for? To know that she accepted it. To know that everything between them was ok. "Did you do all this for me?" she asked timidly, knowing he would never really answer.

"I better not see a single speck of dust gathering on any of these books" he ordered, very unconvincingly. He wouldn't say it, but she knew it was hers, a new sanctuary. In that moment their trip through the woods was forgotten and forgiven. She'd upset him. He'd upset her. He'd made up for it. Could she? Who knew how long he'd been here alone, and who knew what his life had been before, what the people he'd known before had been like. You had to know kindness before you could give it. She wondered if he'd ever really known it before she urged him to take pity on that couple in the woods. Could she ever make it up to him for thinking of him as such a horrific beast? Yes. With a smile she knew how she could be forgiven, she could see what no one else did. And she would make sure that one day, he saw it to. It may not seem like much now, but she knew that it would be worth more than this library was to her. There was a man within the beast, and she could see him standing before her now in the monsters skin. He really wasn't as bad as he seemed. "What are you smiling at missy?!"

She set the book down at his joke and walked around the table, suddenly realizing that his jokes were only something he did to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. She wouldn't be fooled like others would be. She grabbed the hand that he had been pointing at her and held it between her own, a look of surprise and confusion crossing his face as he glanced down at the contact. Had anyone ever willingly touched him in a kind gesture before? "You're not who I thought you were," she admitted, knowing that she truly believed the words "And I'm glad," she said realizing that for the first time, she really was glad, and maybe even a little hopeful for what this adventure might bring.

He stared for a long while, neither of them really sure how to respond to her revelation. Then just as suddenly as the moment had come, it passed. He pulled out of her grasp and wordlessly left the library going back down the stairs they'd come from. She smiled as she watched him go, waiting until the sound of his footsteps disappeared, before she picked up the book from the table and snatched one of the warm blankets up off an armchair. Then she took them back to her dungeon to start a new chapter before nights end.


	13. The Future Isn't Always What It Seems

She'd spent too much time in the library cleaning, stacking, and reordering the precious books. But she'd spent more of that time than she would ever admit reading, instead of cleaning. The price she paid was not hearing the clock that told her it was time to start dinner. As soon as she realized it, she was out of the library, hurrying down the stairs, careful not to trip over her yellow gown, heading for her tiny kitchen. But when she came into the entry way she stopped dead in her tracks.

It looked different. Something had changed. It wasn't just that it was brighter, or cleaner, but it look pleasant. It smelled…wonderful. It confused her. She didn't know what but something had changed since this afternoon when she'd gone up to the tower. She glanced around eagerly, what was it that made it different. Suddenly she spotted the reason sitting on the table: flowers! Dinner forgotten, she hurried over to the bundle, perched in the vase, and beamed. She hadn't done this. She'd wanted to, but with winter moving in, there were no fresh flowers out in the grounds. Had he done this then? Had he set the flowers out? It was so…unlike him. But if she hadn't done it, there left no other option.

They weren't perfect. There were dying ones mixed in with the living ones. But it was an excellent first attempt. It brought life into the castles, something it desperately needed. It made the cold stone walls homey in a way. With delicate hands she set her book on the table and brushed some of the silky petals into order before leaning forward to smell them. They were a wonderful treat, a beautiful, and unexpected surprise.

Suddenly the door to the great room flew open and she found herself jumping back away from bouquet. His confident demeanor fled the moment she met his gaze and he stopped in his tracks at the doors threshold, looking shocked that he'd run into her, perhaps even a little embarrassed. There were a million things they could have said, a million questions she wanted to ask him, but instead what followed was the awkward silence that had haunted them ever since he'd given her the library.

"Ah," he paused his fingers flexed as he tried to decide what to say to her. She decided that subtly was the best way to handle the sudden appearance of the flowers and did her best to pretend she hadn't been admiring them. "Hold dinner for just a few extra minutes," he finally said after a moment "I, ah, I'm going to be a bit late tonight." His voice was high pitched again, not as bad as she knew it could be, but not as serious as it could be. He was hiding himself, but from what she didn't know. She couldn't even form the thoughts properly in her head to begin guessing. What was wrong with her?

His presence, his request, the flowers, it all caught her off guard and she found herself suddenly fumbling to pick up the book she'd set on the table, accidentally dropping it instead, the bang echoing through the empty foyer. "How, how long," she asked breaking their eye contact to reach down and grab it. When she returned from picking it up, she saw that he had taken a few steps closer, like he had wanted to pick it up but stopped himself just in time. "How late will you be?" she asked, the noise finally sobering her mind enough to talk. Still, she found herself blushing at the clumsy incident.

He kept his distance staring at her strangely for a few moments, then giving his head a small shake, like he was ridding himself of some unwanted thought and had to clear his head too. "Not long," he answered sharply. They stared at each other for a short while, before she realized that sooner or later one of them was going to have to move around the other. Why would she be nervous about that? Why would he? They'd shared a carriage during their hunt for Robin Hood why was the entry way suddenly too small when they were in it together?

"I'll, uh," she swallowed, and held her book close to her chest, her grip tightening around it. "I'll get started," she concluded, suddenly happy that her late start would go unnoticed "it shouldn't be long."

"Just long enough," he piped up suddenly, with a look that told her he was just as surprised he'd responded to her comment as she was, but quickly brushed it off as he pointed to the door behind him, "I have business," he added.

"Right!" she exclaimed, smiling as she realized how loudly she'd said the word. She blushed again, or maybe just worse, as she realized why he was still standing there. He was waiting for someone, she was in the way and he wanted her to leave. Why hadn't she seen that a moment ago? And why hadn't he just said the words? "I'll, uh, go," she motioned, "make dinner, then," she finished, embarrassed at her stuttering. She couldn't remember ever feeling this awkward in her life, but lately, she just couldn't seem to help it.

He moved aside as she got closer to the door and was suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart, the red in her cheeks, and her careful examination of the floor before her as she tried to avoid his eyes. It seemed to take forever, but finally she closed the door to the great room behind her and found herself leaning against it like she was trying to keep him out. Immediately her mind felt clearer again and her body relaxed slightly now that she was away from him again.

Her life at the castle seemed to have taken a startling turn since they'd arrived back from Sherwood forest. She would have guessed that sharing the close confines of the carriage, his wordless acknowledgement that she'd been right, and the wonderful library would have made it easier on them somehow, but instead it was just…strange. She couldn't describe the feeling. She couldn't understand what was causing it. They knew they were here, and yet every time they came face to face, they seemed to dance around each other like they were surprised to find another human being. Neither seemed to know what exactly to say or do in the wake of Robin Hood.

Suddenly a loud bang on the other side of the door made her jump, and she hoped that he hadn't heard the way she had knocked her head at the noise. "Why didn't you come when I called you?!" demanded an unfamiliar, young female voice. His "business" had finally arrived. It was a good thing she'd left when she did, otherwise the stranger would have walked in on the both of them, and she knew that the Rumpelstiltskin that had taken to fumbling with his words when she was around, was the kind of man he'd rather not let others see. She didn't know him well, in fact she didn't know anything about him at all, but she knew that he was different around her. The way he'd been acting lately was a far cry from the beast that had walked into her father's castle, or the one that had gone off in search of Robin Hood. She was grateful for it of course, she just wished she understood what caused it.

"Sorry, dearie, do I know you?" she heard him joke in his higher pitched voice on the other side of the door. It was like their encounter had never happened, he'd gone right back to being the dealmaker, the creature the world recognized him as, but not her. All that she'd seen since she'd come here, she doubted she'd ever really be able to see him completely as a monster again.

Satisfied she hadn't interrupted his business, she pushed herself off the door and took a quiet step toward the kitchen. "I already have a maid," she stopped in her tracks at the words. It was the first time she'd ever heard him reference her and although she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't help but hold her breath hoping to hear more. What had sparked that comment? Had his company come seeking a job? Her job?! It was an unimaginable thought. He wouldn't give her away, would he? He wouldn't make her leave. He wouldn't just replace her on a whim or…

She shook her head at the strange overwhelming thoughts, trying to reason with herself. She was captive. She should want to leave and go home. She should want to be free. So, why did the thought that he would replace her make her feel more flustered than those moments they accidentally collided with one another? "Promising girl, actually," she finally heard him comment.

"You know who I am!" the woman responded, but she didn't hear the rest of the words. Their voices faded away behind her as she found herself moving forward and quickly disappearing down the stairs at his words. Her mind felt cloudy again, and she was trying to ignore the relief that had pulsed through her veins as she realized she wasn't going to have to leave. Absent-mindedly she entered her kitchen and began the preparations for dinner, but her thoughts wandered.

She was certain that he hadn't meant for her to hear the words, but now that she had, she couldn't get them out of her mind as she cooked. "Promising?" What did that mean? She was promising? He'd never complimented her on her work. He'd never really given his approval of what she'd been doing. But then again he'd never disapproved or chastised her for it either. And, frankly, he wasn't the kind of man to ever admit when he was happy about something, he tended to prefer brooding in private to happiness. But, did this mean that she was doing a good job? Did this mean that he was happy with her work? With her? It was hard to tell when every time they ran into each other he looked like he'd just run into a dragon! Although it wasn't as though she faired much better on her end.

And what was the cause for their awkward encounters in the first place?! She wasn't terrifying, she was just a 'maid' as he'd so carefully pointed out. He was the Dark One. Why would a maid be able to startle him as she did? But then again why did he have the same effect on her? He was just a man, albeit, a man who had tragically dark powers. A man who used deception and cunning in a way that would make a sphinx jealous, but she wasn't afraid of him. So what was the cause of all this? It wasn't fear or surprise that struck her when they were in the same room, it was just...strange.

She wasn't aware of how much it had consumed her mind until she looked down and saw dinner prepared, and found herself leaning against the wooden table she worked on, rubbing her face with her palms like it would stimulate her brain and give her the answers she sought. She was a smart woman, she prided herself on it, but she just couldn't understand why a riddle like this would stump her. Instinct told her there was a simple explanation for it, but she just couldn't guess what that explanation was. It was silly, this game they seemed to suddenly be players in. She shouldn't be losing time thinking about this, about him, about small comments that he said to a stranger which probably had no meaning at all.

A draft blew around in the stone kitchen and she shivered. The cool air managed to distract her. It was getting colder. Winter was on the way, and she'd noticed the temperature in her space getting colder and colder, longer and longer, as the days wore on. There were no windows, and the small wooden door she had that led out to the grounds was not to blame. It was the fireplace. The same one that was always lit for her, that provided her warmth, was also letting in the chilly drafts as the winds in the mountain had begun to pick up. She looked at the second plate of food she'd set aside for herself. After she'd made sure he'd gotten dinner she'd come back down here to eat. It wouldn't be comfortable. She was suddenly jealous of the nice warm room upstairs that he would eat in. What would she give to eat in a room like that instead of a cold cellar like this...

The image caught in her mind, an idea so obvious, but so bold that it made her muscles tense up. She couldn't! She shouldn't! But almost like it was presenting its own encouraging argument the draft blew again, a little stronger, making the bare skin on her shoulders pucker. She wasn't afraid of him. And what was the worst he'd do? Tell her she couldn't and point her back to the kitchen? With the silence that existed between them, she strongly thought that he wouldn't even bother with something like that! He seemed determined to keep her at arm's length, to pretend that she wasn't here, while the environment seemed to force him to recognize that something was changing around him. How far would that stubbornness persist? How far would hers? She could eat in the kitchen with the uncomfortably cold draft. Or she could eat in the great room in the uncomfortable silence.

With a nervous swallow, she picked up her plate and set it beside his on the tray. When she walked into the great room she saw him sitting predictably in his chair, staring into the fireplace as he waited. He didn't seem frightening at all. How was it that he got anyone to fear him? She took a deep breath and boldly walked into the room with their dinner. She placed his in front of him as always, then looked at her own, she hadn't thought this through entirely. There was no chair at the other end of the table. It sat by the fire, and although she'd never seen him sit there, because he always sat at his wheel, she knew it was still "his". But it was warmer up here, and she really didn't want to take her dinner back to the freezing kitchen.

He was watching her. Curious as to why she was still standing there, she could feel his eyes roam over her and her dinner plate, wondering what was going on? She didn't want him to see her confusion and turmoil. She had to be brave. She had to be confident. She had to be bold! And so, pretending like it was nothing, like she didn't notice him watching her, like she did this all the time, she picked up her own plate and planted herself in his chair by the fire, her back to him so she couldn't see his reaction. Then took a bite and tried to focus on the warmth of the fire shrouding her comfort as his unseen presence fought to make her feel insecure. She listened as she continued to eat, probably a little to enthusiastically in her efforts. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she heard his utensils begin to scrap against the plate. She sighed, and closed her eyes in relief as she let her head fall against the back of his chair. His chair. Another silent infraction she'd commit tonight. Another infraction he didn't seem to mind, or if he did, wouldn't voice. Her mind told her to say something. To explain. To attempt some sort of conversation. But none came. They continued to dine in comfortable silence.

She didn't know what she'd thought her life would be like when she first met him in her father's war room. She pictured being endlessly depressed, never touching a book again, never feeling the joy that simply smelling the flowers had given her. She pictured herself disappearing into the walls of a dark gray castle, losing a bit more of her personality every day, becoming something that she'd never dreamt of. She thought she might look back on her life at her father's palace with jealous remembrance, even thinking of the things that she'd hated with envy. She pictured him screaming at her, ordering her around, and trying her best to stay away from him. If someone had told her the day that she'd met him that none of it was true, that someday they would sit together eating in one room, admittedly in tense silence and without looking at each other, she never would have believed them.

She didn't know what her future had held, but she knew this, strange and indescribable as it was, it was not what she had pictured. She didn't know what would happen in the months to come, but she knew that she should begin to expect the unexpected.


	14. Changing Times

Every morning since her first she had awoken to the sound of the lock on her door clicking open. He was an early riser and released her, she assumed first thing. The loud click of the lock would rouse her up immediately, making her long for the days when she had slept soundly until her body naturally woke her up when it was ready. But this morning was different. She woke to find her door slightly ajar at the angle she'd left it last night and she just couldn't remember him locking it. Mesmerized, she smiled as she examined the door. As if she would be able to see if she had just been deep in sleep and hadn't heard the lock or if he really hadn't bothered. She tried to cook the breakfast without thinking about it, but it kept creeping back into her head. Reading anything, anytime she wanted? Sleeping until she saw fit? Her comings and goings her own responsibility again? Was she really gaining more liberties? Could he really be learning to trust her? Or had his effort to avoid her presence finally peeked?

Things had changed. So much so that the weeks after they returned from Sherwood Forest were unexpectedly awkward. It was as if they didn't want to acknowledge that they were beginning to become accustom to being around one another. So, instead, they stumbled around, carrying out their own lives and tasks until they seemed to accidentally collide. And with a shy smile, or a quick glance, maybe even a slight blush on her part, they went their own ways, barely speaking a word to each other.

The clock chiming startled her from her thoughts and like she had for the past week she carried two plates of breakfast up to him at the proper predictable time. It wasn't so much punctuality he cared about as habit. As their latest "habit" dictated, neither one of them said anything as she sat a plate in front of him. She grabbed her own and sat down with her back to him in the arm chair that he kept by the fire. And even though they didn't share any kind of conversation through the awkward silence there was a relaxing feeling that came with the clanking and clattering of silverware.

She really didn't know what to make of their sudden silences, they'd had no problem yelling at each other before Robin Hood. It was strange, it made her wonder sometimes why he had wanted her there at all? She was his caretaker, but in some ways she was beginning to feel like he was hers as well. Lately, she'd begun to notice certain things that gave her pause. He seemed to look after her in a different way and she couldn't decide how she felt about that.

It started, she supposed, when he had refused to turn her over to that monster of a Sheriff. Anyone else might have seen her as a tradable commodity, but he hadn't. He'd protected her, and it said more about his true nature than he would ever admit to. Then there was the library of course. That had a been a big one. But there were other, smaller ways she was seeing it. She'd never tended to the fire and yet it was always blazing when she came in, keeping her warm against the bitter chill of the mountains bracing themselves for winter. And then there was this. She used to eat in the kitchen but it was lonely and cold. And though she knew that the arm chair was his, he never complained when she first sat down in it to eat. And he didn't say anything about how she now read here every night.

She stared into the fireplace, and finally she heard the scrap of the chair legs and the slam of the door that signaled his wordless departure. With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the chair and looked at the ceiling. He never thanked her, but she never thanked him either. Sometimes it appeared like she was living in a house with a very solid looking ghost. Maybe it was easier that way. There was no tension or ill will between the two of them, not anymore. Their arguments and sins seemed to be forgotten once he'd given her that library. And they seemed to have come to a silent agreement that she wouldn't get in the way of his dealings as long as he didn't flaunt them about. But being in the same room together still felt strange in a way that she couldn't describe. Was it a good sign or a bad sign?

She shook the thought from her head. Breakfast was over and there were chores to be done. And so, she began her morning routine. She took their dishes back to the dark kitchen and set the dishes to soak. Then she went back to her dungeon room, setting aside the blankets that she'd been stockpiling for the cold nights to come she made the pitiful excuse for a bed, and picked up the book that had fallen between the folds. Then she gathered her cleaning supplies and walked the long way up to her own private library. It was her favorite part of the week. Exchanging a finished book for a new one always put a beaming smile on her face. But the promise of new adventure would have to wait for a later time. There were chores to be done. Ones that he hadn't assigned her but made her feel good all the same.

It had started with the library. A simple wish to make the place beautiful and inhabitable again. Once she'd finished there, she couldn't seem to stop and was now on a mission to bring light and life back to haunting gray walls around her. She'd been working her way from the topmost floor of the castle to the bottom. It was large so there was only a room or two that she could get done in a day. The extensive cleaning that they required was exhausting and she longed for the day when all she had to do was light maintenance cleaning. But she was determined to get it all done. There were only two more rooms to do on this floor, she was looking forward to being able to move on tomorrow. She did the same thing to all the rooms, nothing lavish just the basics. She cleaned, dusted, straightened the room, stripping the bed to wash the linens, and made sure to pull all the curtains back adding light to his beloved 'dark castle'. Tea time broke up the work of the day nicely. She could usually do one room in the morning and then one after tea time.

As she heard the chime of the clock telling her it was time to prepare their drink she looked proudly around the room. Nearly fit for a king, or guests at least. Not that they'd ever have any. Last but not least he went to the windows and threw back the curtains. But instead of being enveloped in light she found herself in a cloud of dust so thick she sputtered and tripped, adding another rip to her once elegant attire as she fell to the floor. She coughed and rubbed her eyes free of the dust. The plume began to fade into the floor and she looked down at herself. It was everywhere: in her hair, on her skin, and on, yes even in, her gown.

Her pride was doused by a sudden wave of sorrow for how far she had fallen, literally and figuratively. It usually didn't bother her. If she didn't focus on it she never thought of it but sometimes it crept up on her without warning. Elegant princess to overly dressed maid. It was a long fall indeed. She was fighting to hold back tears when she heard another chime of the clock, reminding her that she was behind schedule. She was grateful for the sudden distraction, it was enough to let her get a hold of herself again. This wasn't who she was: sitting here about to weep because she'd fallen down in the dust. No! She wasn't going to sulk in her own misery, she was going to go and get tea together and tonight she would repair the damage to her only item of dress, wishing that it was better suited for the tasks at hand. She bravely swallowed the lump in her throat, stood up, brushed herself off as best she could and left the room to begin the tea.

Hurrying she started the tea and grabbed a bucket of water to scrub her face and shoulders clean of the debris she had uncovered. The dress was a hopeless case but it had been for a long time. She did her best to make it presentable again but gave up as the tea was ready. How she had managed to clean herself and prepare the tea in time was a mystery to her, but she brought it up to the room only a few minutes behind schedule. He looked her over as she carried it in. She'd seen the look that was on his face before; it was as though he was seeing her for the very first time. It was as if she amazed him or dazzled him somehow. Like each time he was surprised that she hadn't left yet. It was looks like that which made this arrangement awkward, that made her blush because somehow she felt like he could see straight through her.

She set the tray down, watching him pick up the chipped cup as she took her place at the fire, book in her lap, soaking up her few moments of a break. But instead of reading today she stared into the fire, letting the warmth soak into her skin, chasing away the cold, and pushing the sorrow she had uncovered upstairs back down into its hidden crevice.

"Servanthood not everything you hoped it would be?" he said so suddenly in his high pitched voice it surprised her. In fact, she glanced around the room making sure no one else was there and that he was in fact talking to her. When she met his gaze again he lifted his eye brows, still waiting on an answer. He gestured to her, "You look as though you lost a fight with a dusty curtain." How he always knew what she had been doing escaped her. She simply assumed that it was magic of some kind, or maybe part of his ability to see the future, or maybe he really was just that good at guessing. She sat back in her chair, fumbling with her tattered and foul smelling garment, trying to act as though his words weren't getting to her when she had thought them herself only a short while ago.

"It's nothing I can't handle," she assured him, putting a stop to his questioning. He didn't move, just stared into the fire with her, from the corner of her eye she could see him casting strange glances at her as he sipped his tea. He usually partook from his seat at the table. And she was glad when she finally saw him drain the chipped cup and swiftly leave the room.

She let the air out of her lungs, and glanced at the door he departed from; being sure he was gone before she took the tea back to the kitchen, his words still ringing in her ear. The truth of the matter was that she normally didn't have these kind of issues. Servanthood actually was something that she felt she was very good at. The cleaning gave her an opportunity to be busy and to make the castle into what she wanted it to be. Any other tea time she would have told him herself, he'd just picked a wrong time to ask the question. She was certain he hadn't meant to add insult to injury, he didn't treat her like that normally.

She was being silly, and over thinking it. He hadn't meant to make fun of her, he had merely been trying to defuse that strange feeling in the empty space between them. He'd tried to have a conversation, and she'd passed it up! Maybe he sought her company far more than she realized. Somehow instead of putting her mind at ease, it made her feel even worse. It wouldn't happen again. Next time she would be ready, she would welcome it in fact. Maybe it was the only way to change the current status of their interactions.

With the sun sinking she walked back up to where she had left off moving into the next room, refusing to let the previous events disrupt her. She followed the routine, opening the curtains, a little more hesitantly, to let the light in. She stripped the bed, finding a nice blanket that she could use to pad the small wooden bed in her cell, and set the sheets aside for the wash. She righted the tables and dusted them off until they gleamed. Then she went to the large closet, opened the doors, and stopped.

She found the usual, of course, old shoes and musty old jackets. But hanging up was a dress, and the other items paled in comparison to it. It was the first dress she had seen. It wasn't dusty like the others and it didn't smell like it had been sitting there for so long forgotten. It was beautiful. Blue, like the color of the clear sky up in the mountains. Timidly she reached out and touched the linen. It was soft, but made of sturdy material. Next to it was a plain white undershirt, looking cleaner than snow, also soft but strong, and below it a pair of tan shoes.

They were simple but they seemed to entrance her. And she removed them from the closet, looking around the room, expecting to find him looking over her shoulder. They were perfect. Far more suitable than the ball gown she was wearing now, although the short sleeves would make her freeze in the winter. Nevertheless, she laid them out on the freshly stripped bed. Was it just her desires playing tricks on her, or did it look like they would fit her perfectly. She took a step back, away from temptation. She shouldn't. It wasn't proper. Blankets were one thing, but this! If a maid in her father's castle had taken something like this, even if it was forgotten, there would be dire consequences. But she couldn't help but feel like it was meant for her. She looked down at her own gown. The jewels remained but it was nowhere near its former glory. Covered in dust, the mud from the long journey into the woods along the bottom, ripped, torn, and tattered, the puff of the skirts was scratchy and made doing her job more difficult.

No, she really shouldn't. But she was desperate. Slowly she stripped herself of the muck that was her ball gown. She put on the shirt, making adjustments as she went to suit her own preferences, then tied the blue corset around herself lacing it with the strong black thread. She was able to leave her stockings on; they'd been protected by the larger gown since she got here, and found that the skirt settled perfectly over her waist before stepping into the tan shoes. She couldn't get rid of her grandmother's necklace, but found that it suited the outfit.

She was comfortable; she felt like she could breathe, she felt right. It was amazing what a clean set of clothes could do. She thought that she would feel like she was betraying her old self but instead she felt as though she was embracing a new self, a self that actually belonged here. If she didn't know any better she would have thought that he had placed this here just for her.

The thought crashed into her like a rolling wave. Was that where he had gone after tea? Did he do this for her? Like he lit the fires? Like he turned a blind eye when she made herself comfortable in his chair? Or had this truly just been a coincidence? She couldn't work anymore. She was suddenly excited at the prospect and hurried downstairs to sit in the arm chair. She had to know. Was she right? Had he done this for her? Or would he be angry at her taking what wasn't hers? She read as she waited, her eyes only taking in every other word, unable to keep her mind off of what would happen when he saw her in it. Would he be mad? Would he care? Would he think she looked just as beautiful in this as she had in the ball gown? She gawked at her own thoughts. Why would she care about that?! His opinions concerning her didn't matter to her. Did they?

She heard the door open as the sun began to set and she stilled with frightful anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye he appeared walking over to the spinning wheel when he realized she was there. He stopped. She looked up. They stared for a while. He took in the sight of her. She held her breath, bracing herself for his reaction. She watched him, waiting, as he looked, his eyes roaming over her. Both daring the other to make the first move.

When the clock chimed they both jumped. He looked away. She breathed again. Their trance was broken. Quietly he sat at his spinning wheel and began creating his gold, paying her no heed, just like any day. She glanced between him and the fire, and then sat back in the chair relieved of all tension that she had felt. The new book rested against her new skirts, and she began to read. But it didn't feel strange, the squeal of the wheel, his presence, somehow it didn't make her feel awkward...but comfortable, safe, peaceful even. She wasn't sure how it could happen so fast, but in a matter of seconds their deafening silence had turned to companionable space. It was remarkable, and it felt strangely like home, maybe even more relaxing than she had been in her fathers palace.

She shook her head at the stray thought. Out with the old, in with the new. A smile passed over her lips and she sat back in her chair and returned to page one to start over again before dinner.

Yes, things were definitely different.


	15. Hiding Thoughts and Seeking Company

The castle was deathly quiet and peacefully still. In the silent time, she wondered if he had chosen to have a castle up in the mountains with the hope that people wouldn't bother him as much, but magic like his was hard to refuse. They came constantly for him, with problems big and small, some that needed magic and others that really didn't but wanted an easy solution. However, it had been a couple of weeks now since their last visit. She figured that it was the temperature, the bitter wind, and the constant snow. It now made his services pale in comparison to a warm bed and hot fire. Of course this meant that the castle was cold constantly, but still she was enjoying the peace.

She wasn't done cleaning the castle, but some days, when the snow had fallen fresh over night and she was in the middle of a good book, spending the day cleaning seemed like a crime. And so she sat in one of the warmest nooks that she knew of, which just so happened to be by a statue of a gargoyle, her legs tucked under her, with her book in her lap. She liked this space because there was a window against the far side that provided the perfect amount of light and allowed her to see when it began snowing again, just in case she had to go take clothes off the line. She sighed, content to ignore her chores, happy with the comfort this stony hideaway provided her, and looking forward to dinner.

She had to shake her head and put her nose back in her book once more. Random thoughts like that seemed to be entering her mind more and more these days. She'd caught this one with barely an after thought, she was so used to batting them away like they were nothing, and it only showed how good she was getting at containing them. She wasn't that she didn't like them, it was the fact that deep down they confused her more than any riddle ever had. She enjoyed her time alone, her time reading, her time not doing chores, why would she look forward to a dinner spent in the chair by the fire? Why would the idea of tea put a small excited skip in her step?

And why would the distant sound of footsteps on the stairs down the hallway make her smirk?

He'd found her. Again. It hadn't taken him long to stop by the statue she was sitting by and pause giving a small "oh!" of surprise as he caught sight of her. "I, uh, I wondered where you'd scurried off to," he said a little more confidently and with a silly hand gesture she supposed was meant to remind her of a mouse. "Dusting the books again, I see," his voice was low, but not in the serious kind of way. In fact it had only gone higher and taken on an accent at the end of his sentence. A sign that he'd caught himself getting too comfortable around her and quickly corrected it.

She smiled at the comment, he liked to joke that reading the books was her favorite method of dusting them. She had to laugh at it, not because it was a funny joke, but because he was right. "It's, uh, it's my favorite," she admitted holding it close.

"Oh?" he questioned, his voice turning low and serious again. He was genuinely curious, he was always curious, but she liked when he seemed to take an interest in her. It made her...she dismissed the thought. She'd caught it this time before she'd even thought about it. Yes, she was getting better at that.

"Yes, the, uh" she answered timidly, still recovering from her minds latest attempted outburst "the girl has my name. And it has all the elements that truly make a story great, you know. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, even a prince in disguise," she commented, thinking about Gaston. The girl's name was all she had in common with this story. But, strangely, she was ok with that. She smirked, it was yet another stray thought easily chased away. Was it just her, or was it worse when he was around?

"It seems to have found a good home then," he commented with interest.

They stared at each other for a while, but not in the awkward silence they once had shared, just comfortable stillness. She watched him watching her and suddenly remembered that he had come to find her, what would the excuse be this time? "Did you, uh," he kept his distance like he was afraid to get to close to her, but the way he watched her it was like he couldn't bear to take his eyes off of her either. It was the strangest feeling, thinking that he couldn't make up his mind. He was certain about everything...except for her it seemed. "Did you, did you, need something?" she finally asked.

"Ah," he sighed and she could see his fingers twitch awkwardly. "The table!" he said loudly, like the idea had just come to him, she knew that it probably had, "in the dining room. It seemed a bit dusty to me," he added in the joking voice, that told he was trying to be firm and chastise her, but just couldn't bring himself to be cruel.

She nodded and marked her page before standing up, he adjusted his distance so that she didn't get any closer to him than she had when she'd been perched beside the statue, then turned his back and silently led them down the halls and stairs that would take them into the great room. It was only after he'd turned his back that she allowed herself to smile. It wasn't an accident that he'd found her, and she knew for a fact that there was no dusting to be done in that room because she had done it just that morning. He had been looking for her. He'd taken to doing that the past few weeks since he'd had no visitors. It had become her own personal game of hide and seek. She would find a new place to read when she was done with chores and see how long it took for him to find her again. If she was honest with herself it was part of the reason that she chose not to read in her library on days like these.

It was a curious habit he seemed to have developed. He always came to find her, he always made some strange request that he hadn't really thought about, and it hadn't escaped her notice that the request always placed her in the same room as he was. She didn't think that it was her that he was really seeking out, only her company. He would never say the words, but she had come to the conclusion that no matter what had caused him to be cursed as he was, he was just like any other person shut away from other people. He was lonely. They were the only two people in these mountains. It was a big castle, it was only natural that they would want to be in the same room. Wasn't it?

As soon as they entered the great room, she wasn't surprised that he made his way over to his spinning wheel first thing. Careful inspection of the table revealed it was still clean. She couldn't help but glance over at him spinning straw into gold, and feel a sudden pang of sorrow for him. Predictably, he just wanted proof that he wasn't the only living thing here.

She took a deep breath and tried to shake the feeling. She wasn't sure if he knew why he did this everyday. Frankly, she wasn't even sure he knew he was doing it! But something deep down in her didn't want him to know. If he ever did figure it out, he would stop, he would convince himself that he didn't need her company and leave her to her own devices while he sulked somewhere in private, and for some reason she just couldn't stand the thought of that.

And so she kept up appearances. If he wanted her to dust, then she'd dust. It was going to be a very quick chore. Her tools collected, she dusted the already clean table, then made sure the collection was in order, and dusted it again as well. He acted as if he wasn't aware of her, as if it meant nothing to him, but she felt like he looked slightly more relaxed with her moving about him, his shoulders were slumped in a way that suggested comfort, his face was at ease instead of concentrated, even his breathing seemed more even somehow.

Her busy work completed, she knew she only had a few minutes to spare before it would be time to collect dinner. She could spend the time reading or she could move the schedule up a bit, she doubted he would notice, and even if he did, she doubted he would care. Dinner wasn't going to be difficult, not tonight. The cold weather had demanded something warm and she'd had stew over the hearth simmering all day. All she really had to do was scoop it into bowls. "I'm, uh," she muttered, looking around the room that they shared and seeing nothing else to do. "I'll go grab dinner," she decided. Whether or not he heard her, she wasn't sure. He didn't respond but it was so quiet between them that it seemed impossible for him not to hear her.

She made her way down into the kitchen, sometimes she didn't realize how much she missed the squeak of his wheel until it was gone, and the castle around her was still and silent again. Suddenly, as easy as it was going to be to fetch dinner, it didn't seem like she could do it quick enough. The castle was friendly, it had even become warmer in the time since she'd been here, but she hadn't done much work down in the dungeon area. In fact, with the exception of her room, it was cold and dreary even with the fire lit in the hearth. It was for that very reason that she wouldn't be able to start doing any work down here until spring, until visitors started coming again, and he was occupied with deals once more.

She sighed at the thought. This game they played would end. He'd go back to work. She'd be able to read in the library again. Somehow she found herself dreading that day. When it was warmer, life would surely go back to being just as normal as it had been before winter had hit. Busy as she knew she'd be, she found herself thinking that it would be awfully boring, just as it was in these times he was absent...

She shook her head once more, a wordless chastisment. She'd done it again, let her mind roam, those thoughts weren't helpful, they only gave her more questions than answers.

Quickly as she could, afraid the thoughts would come back, she filled two bowls with the stew she'd made and set them on a tray with a couple of spoons and tea then expertly balanced it on her arm and went upstairs. She felt like she could feel the warmth and peace grow the closer and closer she came to that room. When she finally pushed open the door to the room and let herself carry the tray as she should, she smiled to see him already sitting at the table, staring off into the fire with his head perched upon a hand, deep in thought.

It was times like this, when she knew that there was more to him than appeared. She couldn't tell where his mind was, but she knew it wasn't with her in that room. His eyes were gentle and sad in a way. When she started this job she knew that she had to get to know his expressions, the trickster that he was, she'd learned that his words were unreliable for telling her what he was thinking and feeling, what he really wanted. But it was his actions, the tone of his voice and most importantly his expressions that told her the most about him. She knew his expressions, she knew that he was reflecting on something solemn, something that bothered him, but she had no idea what that something was.

They never talked about themselves. They'd grown accustomed to each other, it wasn't as awkward as it had been when they'd returned to the castle what seemed like an eternity ago, but they still never spoke about themselves, always books, or chores, or books, or necessity, or books. It never bothered her before, she'd never really thought about it, but she suddenly found herself wishing that they did, that she knew the reason behind that look, behind that gaze.

She adjusted the tray in her hands and the china tinkled, the sound broke his concentration and he glanced up at her. The look in his eyes shifted again. This time his look was inviting, warm, maybe even welcoming. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he was grateful she'd returned quickly, for the distraction she provided. She didn't know what he'd been thinking of, but if her company helped to easy his mind then she found herself happy that she could provide some comfort.

She took a deep breath and made her way toward him, offering a friendly smile, "I, uh, I made stew," she said placing his bowl before him. "Should ward against the cold," she muttered. He nodded an approval, but leaned away from her again, like he was afraid her arm might accidentally brush his shoulder if she got too close. She picked up her own bowl and sat down in the chair he kept by the fire, the one she spent more time in than he did. The bowl was hot in her hands and she set it in her lap to buffer it against the layers of the long sleeved green dress she'd come across just before the first major snow storm. She listened to the clinking of china as he ate in silence, waiting for her bowl to cool enough to hold it.

She couldn't guess what it was like to be him. What must it have been like before she was here? Not just with the cleaning, but what would it have been like to spend these few quiet weeks alone without any other human soul around? And what was worse? All that time he'd spent by himself without anybody around, or knowing that the only reason anyone ever came to the castle wasn't to see him, but for the magic he possessed? Was that the reason he wanted her here? Was it because he was lonely and needed company? Was it because he wanted someone else to share this space?

Suddenly she clenched her jaw together as the heat from the bowl finally soaked through her dress and began to slowly burn her legs. She quickly picked it up, only to find her bare hands flinching at the contact. It did smell delicious and she certainly could use the warmth against the snowstorm moving across the mountains, but it was just too hot to hold. Behind her, she heard his silverware against the smooth service of the bowl, having no problem, and glanced to the other end of the empty table.

It was silly. They were the only two people around for miles, they shared the same space all the time now, why should sharing a table be such an unspoken terrifying act? With determination, and care for her hands, she picked up her bowl and spoon and strode over to the other side of the table. She tried to act as oblivious as he did when he brought her into the room. But she could glimpse out of the corner of her eye, his surprise while watched her, spoon suspended in mid-air half way to his mouth, as she dragged the heavy chair from the fire over to the opposite end, her end, and set it down with a loud thud. With a small smirk she sat back down, realizing that this was the first time since she'd left her father's castle that she was eating with a proper chair and table.

He didn't do anything and he didn't say anything. He just watched her, stunned for a few moments as she slurped a few mouthfuls of stew and pretended like she wasn't staring back at him from under her eyelashes. Finally, after a few more mouthfuls the moment passed. The brief tension in his shoulders disappeared, the spoon traveled back into the bowl, and they continued their silent meal. They never said a word, never looked at each other, merely glanced from their bowls to the fireplace and back again. When they were through he simply got up and resumed his place at the spinning wheel, she predictably picked up their dishes and returned them to her small kitchen to soak. Then just as always she returned, intending to get a few more hours of reading in before they would go their separate ways for bed again.

She smiled when she got back. He'd been busy while she was gone. The chair at the end had been placed back by the hearth, her book was set upon the cushion and a blanket she'd never seen before was folded across the back, welcoming her to it. He hadn't done it to be rude, or to send a message not to eat at the table again. Others might think that, but she knew better, she knew him. Instead it was done out of kindness. The book and the blanket waiting for her held a silent admission that the spot was hers and he expected her to use it, maybe even wanted her too. For the first time she found herself wondering if he ever had thoughts like she did. She wondered if they perplexed him as they did her.

Hiding her latest ponderings, she smirked, and ignored his subtle curious gaze, as she walked across the room. She wrapped the blanket around herself, sat in the chair, happily with her book in her lap, and was content to listen to the crackle of the fireplace and the creak of his spinning wheel fill the silent space between them as the wind howled outside.

Maybe she wasn't alone in her thoughts. And maybe he wasn't alone in his loneliness. Cold and bitter as it was, she had to admit, it was nice to have the company.


	16. Not a Monster

He wasn't a monster. And he certainly wasn't as bad as he had seemed the first time he had appeared in her father's castle. She'd learned quickly that he liked to appear worse than he actually was, but the more time she spent with him, the more she'd come to realize that "beast", as her father had described him, was a far cry from what he actually was. She'd feared when she came that he would be strict, that she would hate him, but the more she'd roamed around his castle the more she came to realize that she was far freer here as his caretaker than she ever had been as a princess in her father's palace.

There, everything had been chosen for her, from the way that her bedroom looked, to what she wore, how she spent her time, even who she spent her time with. Now her time was her own. It was true she still slept in the dungeon but it had been ages since he actually locked her in, now she came and went as she pleased. There were rooms in his castle simply piled with dust and objects that were long forgotten. She learned in her early days to scavenge. An old blanket here a few dresses there. Add them to the wash, put them in her small room, and suddenly they were her own. In fact, this tiny space, his castle, it all began to feel like more of a home than her father's palace ever had. And as for her time…she found so many nooks and crannies that she could stow away in with a book, from the library he had given her, that she never found herself unhappy. She spent many days reading, loosing track of time, until he inevitably came to find her and made some obscure request. It was a habit he'd started in the winter months, that he hadn't let go of, secretly, she was happy for that.

She learned that he didn't really care if she cleaned or not. In fact, she'd come to believe it was more her company that he cared for than having an actual caretaker. He liked her. She knew he'd never actually say the words, but she knew he liked her. It was present in the things he did for her, like when he had let that man, Robin Hood, escape with his life. But it was more present in the things he didn't do. Like the way he said nothing when she grew tired of eating her meal alone in the kitchen and began to take it by the fireplace as he ate and how he didn't react when a few weeks later she began sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Baby steps, she learned, he needed her to take baby steps. He thought he was a monster, but she had seen true monsters, seen the way they really treated their maids and caretakers and she knew that they didn't turn a blind eye when they claimed household items for their own, spent endless hours draped across a chair in the library reading, or when they took their dinner with their masters. She was a princess after all and that had been her life. She had watched Gaston do it, her father, her grandmother, and even herself before she'd arrived here. She knew monsters and he wasn't one.

They existed in quiet happiness. Evenings were predictable. When he was finished with his meal he quietly pushed back from his plate and went to sit at his spinning wheel, she would do her chores between reading her book and joining him in the same room before they silently decided they were tired and went their separate ways.

Today she cleared away their dishes with only the squeak of the wheel as background noise. Then she went into the kitchen and set them in a trough to soak for a couple of hours. She would clean them before she went to sleep. Finally, she finished her evening chores by going outside to the line, where she was waiting for some clothes to dry. She had found a lovely pink dress in one of the upstairs rooms while she'd been cleaning today and she couldn't wait to add it to her extremely limited wardrobe. It would be perfect for when summer arrived. Part of her suspected that he magically created these gowns and left them lying about for her, so that she didn't need to ask him and he didn't need to give them. He'd made her independant in that way.

She stood in the sun and took a deep breath in through her nose, and rubbed her arms. It was warm enough that she didn't need to have a cloak when she came out any more but still cold enough that the wind numbed her skin. Other than the temperature, the weather today was perfect: sunny, gentle breeze, and on a couple of the plants a few small buds. It was almost spring. Had it been that long since she had arrived here? She almost couldn't wait until she could sit outside under one of these trees reading, maybe she would tend to one of the gardens, just to see if he would say anything.

Just then another gust picked up, making her shiver. She inspected the laundry, and finding it still damp, left it flapping in the wind as she went back into the castle and wrapped a shawl around her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark glum interior and she made her way back upstairs for the evening.

He still sat against the wall, at his spinning wheel. The chair neither acknowledged that he moved, had been placed back by the fire and her book set upon its cushion. It had become a welcoming sight. She made herself comfortable but found she couldn't focus enough to read tonight. The smell of the breeze still clung to her dress and the light of the sun made the castle dull. She glanced around her, wondering if he'd noticed her disinterest as he always seemed to be able to, but then her eyes fell on something else entirely.

The windows. She'd never noticed them before. Well, she knew they were there but never paid them much attention. They were always shut away behind the red drapes that blended seamlessly into the wall. Suddenly she felt a wash of familiar need sweep over her. She'd felt it often since they'd returned months ago from hunting Robin Hood. It was the need to make her prison her home. She'd succeeded in every room but this one and now that she felt it she knew exactly what she had to do. Exactly what she wanted: the sun.

She glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, still sitting at the spinning wheel, not paying her any attention, then rose suddenly and left. From one of the rooms she used for storage, she pulled out a long ladder that she had seen but never used, and boldly carried it into the room and over to the long window farthest from where he was working. She noticed him glance up at her as she set it up against the wall, and could have sworn that was a quizzical look on his face but he quickly looked away and went back to his own work.

She glanced up the ladder; it suddenly looked a lot higher than it had before she had fetched it. She sighed, and reminded herself that if she was here, she had already transcended a level of bravery she didn't think she had. Climbing up a ladder was a smaller act of bravery, surely she had that. So she placed her hand on one of the rungs, and when she certain it was sturdy she began her climb. Suddenly the comforting squeak of Rumpelstiltskin's wheel stood out to her in a very disconcerting way, and she found herself fearing that it might be a lose nail and she would fall to the ground before getting to try to see the sun.

She tried not to think about it, and focused only on her task. Once she was as high as she was going to get she reached out and tugged on the curtain. It didn't move. She tugged again and still it wouldn't budge. At her movement the ladder gave a the slightest of sudders and she was suddenly aware of how far out she was leaning and how far up she was. Her heart started to beat and she moved over to grip the sides of the ladder and steady herself, the only noise coming through the sound of her own heartbeat was the sound of that ridiculous wheel. She glanced over at him, seemingly unaffected by what was happening in his home. She glanced out at the curtain, but her heart started to race again. She glanced back at him and tried to calm herself down.

"Why do you spin so much?" As the words slipped out of her mouth she suddenly felt nervous for a completely different reason. He paused at her words. She hadn't actually meant to ask him the question but the squeaking had been making her anxious and she just wanted to world to stop while she collected herself. It just popped out. "Sorry," she muttered when he didn't answer. "It's just that you've spun more straw into gold than you could ever spend," she pointed out, trying to cover up her own anxiety.

"I like to watch the wheel, it helps me to forget," he commented solemnly, his voice low and serious. It was the tone he used when he was being honest with her.

Surprise filtered though her replacing her fear. She hadn't expected an answer, much less an honest one. She'd never actually seen him do business, but she'd heard him. Sometimes through the door to the next room she was cleaning, sometimes from behind the statue she was crouched behind as she read. Others had asked questions of his life, but he never revealed anything. She'd heard him change the subject, joke, and even make a veiled threat to the inquirer, but he'd never actually answered with honesty!

As she looked down at the man below her she felt something new for him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, no matter how she tried to name the emotion. Where, a moment ago, she had seen Rumpelstiltskin now sat a man, afraid of his past, trying to outrun something he would never be able to. He seemed smaller to her somehow, meeker, more human. She couldn't see his face but she could see the muscles in his back and shoulders tense. He looked scared, as though he was just as surprised as she was that he had answered her question. The sensible part of her brain told her she should get back to work, that she should leave him alone and finish taking the curtains down. But she suddenly felt as though she was drowning in curiosity. It had worked once before, why not try one more time?

"Forget what?" she asked timidly.

He paused again, and was perfectly silent for a moment. "Well, I guess it worked" then he let out a giggle and she couldn't help but laugh at the joke he'd made. What had she expected? It was the avoidance tactic she knew so well, and with it, the fleeting moment had passed. She shook her head and looked back at the curtain to her right. Now she really did need to get back to work. "What are you doing?" the voice shocked her. She assumed he'd go back to his business and she'd go back to hers, she didn't realize they were still "talking". A real conversation between them happened so rarely that it still surprised her each and every time. But he had answered her question, or one of them at least, it was only fair she answer his. Besides, there was no reason to hide what she was doing from him. He'd find out soon enough.

"Opening these!" she said, answering like it was obvious. Wasn't it? "It's almost spring. We should let some light in." He didn't respond to her, so she didn't push the answer. She wanted to see the light. She wanted to see the mountains and the valley below. She wanted to see spring when it came. She reached out and gave the curtain two more tugs, hard tugs, and still they wouldn't budge. He wasn't saying anything, but he was watching and she found she wanted him to say something. Was he laughing at her? At her inability to simply open the curtains? He could probably do this with a wave of his hand, after all. She sighed and glanced down at him. If he wasn't going to make fun of her then she would. "What did you do, nail them down?" she joked.

But instead of a laugh he only nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. Well, that made her feel a little bit better, obviously it wasn't her then. But nailed down or not, she wasn't giving up. She wanted to watch the sunset, and read in the light, and she wanted to live in a castle that wasn't so dreary. She tugged and heard the ripping of fabric. She tugged again and felt the entire cloth give way as she lost her balance and footing.

She didn't have time to scream, only time enough to register the lurch in her stomach, to think about how much it would hurt when her head hit the floor, and the blackness of unconsciousness that she would be left in. But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't darkness that met them. It was his face, confused, dazed, and doused in the glow of the setting sun. As the adrenaline kicked in and her heart began hammering against her chest, she realized that she wasn't injured and she hadn't hit the floor. He had caught her. He had kept her safe. Suddenly he became aware of it himself, glancing from the light pouring in the window and then at her, nestled against him. She'd touched him before, but he never really seemed to like it. To have him touching her, even in an act of instinct felt fine. Maybe better then fine. It felt...right.

She felt like she should do something, like she should say something as they stared at each other. Instead, she said the only two words she could think of. "Thank you" she breathed, and never were two words more true. Suddenly he dropped her feet back to the ground as if he just realized what had happened, what he'd been doing. "Thank you" she said again trying to sound like she hadn't just almost died. She could feel her legs shaking as she steadied herself.

"No matter" he held his hands up, awkwardly acknowledging the situation as "ok," and once again putting the safe amount of distance between them.

She glanced at the fallen curtain and the window, then the ladder, her mind telling her she was never going up there again. But she couldn't seem to get her brain and body to act together again, and what came out was: "I'll put the curtains back up." She made it sound like she was laughing, so she wouldn't be embarrassed about her fall. But he only paused again and looked back at her. For as much as he loved to laugh and tease everyone there was nothing funny about this situation, about what had nearly happened, to him. It was a line he wasn't going to cross, and she appreciated it.

"Ah," he paused, and glanced down at the floor. Did he feel it too? The need to say or do something more? "There's no need," he chose to say instead, "I'll get used to it." And with that he turned and went back to his work.

She couldn't help but smirk as she glanced back up at the ladder she shook her head. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he didn't want her on the ladder again. Maybe he didn't want her to risk injury either, there was no way to tell. She took the infernal thing down and back up to her small storage room, trying not to think about their brief encounter. When she returned her eyes widened at a marvelouse sight. The curtains were pulled back. All of them. The evening sunset was streaming in, and against the wall, now drenched in light sat her companion, nothing but the squeak of the spinning wheel in the dead space between them.

The feeling she'd had a moment ago returned. She wanted to hug him, to wrap her arms around him, to thank him a million times over, if that was what it took to get him to see how grateful she was. But she stopped herself just as soon as she got the feeling. It was silly, and, knowing his response to her touching and presence, he had probably reached maximum capacity for the day. She blinked away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, resisting the urge. Baby steps, she reminded herself. And instead, acting as if nothing had happened, she resumed her place, at the chair by the fire, only turning it slightly so that she could keep her book lit by the sun, and have him in her sight. She smiled and continued reading her book, happily.

He wasn't a monster. It was in the things he did, like catching her before she hit the ground, and answering her questions without a moment of hesitation. And it was in the things he didn't do. The way he didn't complain when she changed his home, or wasn't bothered when she undid what he had purposefully done. No, he most definitely wasn't a monster. But exactly what he was, she hadn't figured that out yet either.


	17. Beauty and the Beast

Someone had knocked on the door just after their dinner. It was ok. She'd wanted to clean the windows any way and with him constantly spinning at his wheel it made her task difficult as she didn't want to interrupt him. She could hear them as she cleaned, even up on that tall ladder. She couldn't help it, the poor man was pouring his heart out to, what she was sure, was a fairly non-receptive, Rumpelstiltskin. There was a girl, he had loved her since before he could remember, but she had been imprisoned in the top of a high tower with no doors or stairs by a witch of some kind. As she moved her ladder over to set after set of windows and the man continued to talk she couldn't help but shake her head at him.

He wouldn't care. She didn't even need to be in the same room to see his face or hear his voice to know that at the end of the day all he would care about was the deal he made, the players and details were inconsequential. Frankly, she found she couldn't blame him. No one ever seemed to take an interest in his life, to care for him! Why would he be interested? Why should he? The man, a prince she suspected, had finished the tale just as she was on the last window. That thought alone made her roll her eyes, five large windows that required a ladder to clean, it was no simple task, and yet she'd had the time. As she'd been finishing he had finally taken over the conversation, explaining something about a dove that would fly a potion to the girl that would make her hair long and strong enough to climb…but for a price.

"All magic comes with a price" she muttered at the same time he said it in the hallway. It was something he said too often for her not to have memorized. But she never did get to hear what the price was. Echoing footsteps told her they were going into his work area. She didn't know what he would make him pay, but from what she had seen of his deals, her own the one exception, they never exactly worked out in the other persons favor. In her opinion, the man was better off spending months trying to learn how to scale an unscaleable wall. Magic was never worth the price. She only needed to see him to know it was true. Magic, she was certain, had turned him into the dealmaker he was today. He was as much a victim of it as those he victimized.

Finished with her task she let the fresh light dance across her skin, clearer and brighter now that the windows had finally been clean. She took the dreadful ladder back to its hiding space and returned for the cleaning bucket and paused by what it had been placed beside.

She'd never asked questions about the object covered by the blanket. He'd never said it was part of the collection, never insisted it be cleaned, and she'd really never noticed it before. But he wasn't around now, and she had the cleaning bucket right here, she didn't need the ladder but if she stood on a chair she was certain she could at least give the object a good rub down.

Why not? It wouldn't take long, she could return to her book afterward. Gingerly she stepped forward and took the heavy cloth in her hand. She'd been living here too long and knew to expect the unexpected, so she was both surprised and relieved, and maybe a little embarrassed, when she took a peek first and saw that it was just a common place mirror. She pulled the cloth off of it and sighed as she glanced into the harmless object. It seemed normal, why he would cover it up was a complete mystery. As she made to reach down and pick up her cleaning rag she stopped, startled at the girl in front of her. Suddenly the thought dawned on her.

She hadn't seen a single mirror in this castle. Not even a shiny reflection that didn't distort the face horribly. This was the first time in months that she'd see a clear image of herself and she looked...different. It was hard to put her finger on, but it was more than just the clothes that she was wearing or the style of her hair. She looked herself up and down, searching for differences. Her back was slouched ever so slightly. And she supposed her head was tilted at an angle that was more confident and comfortable than when she had always been told to raise it with prestige. She supposed she looked more at ease...

That was it! Comfort! She looked comfortable, and relaxed. And she liked it. It was like staring back at her for the first time ever, was herself. She watched as a smile spread across her face. She'd never been vain, she knew she was a beautiful girl, but she'd never wanted people to see that. She didn't want to be a beautiful girl. Smart, funny, intelligent, regal, any of those would do if they could come first before her beauty. It hadn't bothered her that she didn't have anything to look at herself with here, in fact until this moment, she'd hardly noticed. But the transformation that had taken place when she wasn't looking, it was one no one in the courts would be proud of, but she was.

"Careful now, dearie!"

She jumped and placed a hand over her chest as her body reacted to his high pitched voice. She hadn't noticed him come back. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked surprised to find herself more curious than embarrassed.

He sobered, she had learned that quickly. There was a way he talked when he had to be the deal maker, and there was a way he talked when he was himself, with her. She wondered if anyone in the world had ever seen him as such. "Long enough," he answered head bowed and fingers tapping together. "Mirrors can be dangerous objects," he explained. "It's best to keep them covered if you must possess one."

She shook her head brow furrowing at his accusation, what was the purpose of having one if you couldn't use it. "But why? It's just a simple looking glass."

"That may be true. But when you look into a mirror, you should always keep in mind, that you never know what might be looking back." He came to stand behind her, and she could see their reflections so clearly in the mirror: they were Beauty and…the Beast. As soon as she thought the word she wanted it from her mind. She didn't see him that way, not any more, not for a long time. Was that what was so frightening to him, his appearance? Did he hate what he had become on the outside, too? She could relate to being judged by appearances, and hated it just as much. They had that much in common, the world saw them as one thing, and never even bothered to wonder who they could be underneath. He was not what the world thought he was. There was more to him.

She thought back to her cleaning today, she'd chosen another room to go through and had found something startling in it. Clothing. Children's clothing by how small it had been. She didn't think it had been his, he didn't appear to be sentimental over his own items. And she didn't think it had come from a deal, it was too old. And besides, he displayed those items with pride. Her mind had left her thinking that there was something else to him. There was a past she didn't know about, something he kept secret. But just as she had found dresses perfectly fit for her laying about and known they were just for her to find, she wondered if he hadn't wanted her to find those items too. She wondered if he was desperate enough for contact that he wanted her to ask him about it, but would never admit it.

As she glanced at their reflection she was suddenly aware of the hand at her waist. She didn't know when it had arrived, and her suspicion was he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. Or how close he was against her back, so close she could feel his breath against her ear. She was suddenly frightened, not of him. He didn't scare her, whatever power he had to make others fear him she was immune to. But instead she was frightened to move, too scared, that if she made any quick movements he would startle.

Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed thinking about the children's cloths she had found, then tenderly folded and placed into a drawer. She had her suspicions, but she didn't know how to approach it. He never seemed to worry about bluntness, in fact he liked to state things about others outright when making deals. Would the same thing work for him?

"Best to keep this old thing covered," with a flick of his wrist and a puff of smoke the thick cloth was back over it and their reflection had disappeared from her sight. It happened so quickly that she hadn't had time for it, the motion startled her and she found herself leaning back into him more than she had meant to. But he didn't pull away, in fact it was his hand that had kept her steady and not toppled them over.

She took a deep breath and swallowed, taking her eyes off the covered mirror and did her best to look at him, despite the strange angle, "What happened?" she asked quietly "to your family?" As soon as the words left her mouth she knew that she wasn't just curious about his past, she had to know it. Desperately. She saw his head tilt and knew that he was looking at her.

"What happened," his voice was low, serious...honest, "is I'm a difficult man to love." She felt her chest rise and fall with a happy sigh. It was inappropriate for the situation, but she was happy to know something about him. This was the second time he'd actually answered her questions, no hesitation, no jokes, it was just like he wore an invisible mask to the rest of the world, and little by little he was growing comfortable with taking it off in her presence.

She was going to ask him more but he suddenly pulled away from her, it happened so quickly she found herself having to balance herself so she wouldn't fall. He strode proudly back to the spinning wheel and took his seat like normal. She could ask him more, but she didn't want to prod any more. She picked up her book and took her usual seat by the fire, but her mind wouldn't focus on the words in her book. Instead, it filled with the thought of his words.

She'd guessed right. He'd had a family, a son, by the look of the clothing. Was that what he so desperately tried to forget at that wheel? There was more to it than that. There had to be. He had given her an answer, one that he truly believed. He wasn't an easy man to love, it wasn't a lie, but that didn't mean he thought it was impossible. It had taken them a few months, but she had come to like Rumpelstiltskin in the end.

The book fell from her hands at the realization and she dove to pick it up. She saw him glance her way at the bang and even thought she might have seen a small trace of a smirk, but he never missed a squeak in the wheel as she picked her book up and righted herself.

She liked him!

It had taken her months to realize that she was happy here but it wasn't just the place, or the freedom, she liked her captor. He was…kind. If only to her, but it was there. He had kindness. Magic aside, he was...good. She could feel it somewhere deep down. He wasn't an evil beast as she'd once believed, he might have been on the surface, but under all that there was a good man!

She swallowed her surprise and looked down at her book. He might not be an easy person to love, but it was possible. She didn't know what would come of this realization. Maybe nothing more than her own knowledge. But it made her smile as she curled her legs up in the chair and watched the fire burn. There they sat, Beauty and the Beast, two people suffering from the same problem in a different reflection.


	18. A Lonely Man

She wouldn't call him her friend. But to say they were master and slave was wrong too. She was finally beginning to let herself believe that one day they might be though. It had taken them months to get to where they were now, who knew where another month or two would take them. He liked to talk, and sometimes she thought he was just as surprised at that fact as she was. Of course he would not talk about anything personal, but then again she rarely volunteered her own personal information. She wanted to set something of an example, and didn't withhold it when he asked, but he seemed to have figured that out and almost had a sense of guilt because of it. The easy way around it was just not for him to ask. But it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to ask her what she was reading, and talk about the book. The conversations never lasted long but it had left her convinced that he probably had read all the books up in the library. She couldn't be sure when he'd had the time, but she was certain that he'd had more than one lifetime to read them in.

Sometimes when he was silent, after he finished eating or spinning, and he sat staring off into the fire, or out the window, she could see the years behind his gaze. She wasn't sure how old he was, but she was certain it was older than anyone she had ever met. Probably older than anyone her father had ever met.

When the clock chimed, she smiled and abandoned her latest task eagerly. Today she busy moving. Not officially of course, but when she'd finished cleaning the castle the previous week, really cleaning it, she had gotten a wonderful idea as she made the last bed. He hadn't objected to the way she joined him for dinner at night, or when she'd taken blankets for her dungeon, or when she took the dresses she found even if they were meant for her. And so she'd decided: this room would be hers now.

She wasn't going to ask, he wouldn't give permission, and she knew he wouldn't reprimand her for it. He had something of a soft spot for her, and she thought he might have given her a real room months ago if his pride hadn't gotten in the way. And so, slowly over the course of the day she was cleaning, folding, and moving everything she had collected from her dungeon and moving it into her new room. She was nearly done, everything she owned was in the room, she just had to arrange it now the way she liked it. But the task, it seemed would have to wait until after tea and whatever conversation they would find themselves having today.

She smirked at the thought and went down to the kitchen. She warmed the water and set the tea cups out on the tray, including the cup she had so lovingly named her "chipped cup". She felt a strong affection for it. She didn't know why, but something about its flaw was beautiful to her. Much to her disappointment, the chip was not something you could "hardly see," but he still used it when she put it on a tray, and the way he simply pretended it was nothing, still made her smile to this day. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Who would ever have guessed that she would have been happy here?

As she finished her preparations she took it up to the great room they used. He wasn't in the room yet, but she noticed that some of the straw he kept near his wheel had fallen to the ground. She left the tray on the corner of the table and quickly made herself busy: picking the stray pieces of straw off the ground, noting that he was out of it, straightening the already straighten artifacts, taking a glance out the window. When she heard the tinkling of china, she glanced over her shoulder she realized that he had come into the room, quietly, as always. She was so used to it that she didn't startle any more when she was certain she was alone only to find the next minute she wasn't. He stared at her as she put aside her busyness and came back over to the table.

He had taken the chipped cup again, and she smirked as if it was her own private joke. She would have gotten her own tea ready but found she really wasn't thirsty. That was alright, it wasn't a requirement, and frankly it wasn't why she came to tea any more. She suspected he didn't come just for a drink any more either. He made a move to go to his side of the table, normally she sat at the hearth or on her side, but she didn't want to be that far away today. She was feeling oddly bold and told herself that there was no need to have a table if she had nothing to place on it. Instead she followed him, he took notice, as always, glancing back at her over his shoulder, curious about why she was following him. Then, after finding a comfortable spot on the table, she jumped up to sit down. At the creak he spun around. He let out a small "oh!" and was taken back by the sight of her crossing the invisible divide between her side and his side, even if only in the slightest. She had surprised him, she doubted that anyone had ever surprised him in his life. She'd known him long enough to know that he could see the future, but he couldn't see her sitting on his table. The future wasn't always what you expected. This strange relationship they had developed was proof of that.

She smirked, crossed her ankles and let her legs swing back and forth, still feeling bold. It must have been the after effect of claiming one of the rooms for herself. She didn't want to talk about the new book she was reading, he always seemed to know the days that she spent in the library, and she didn't want to talk about what he wanted for dinner, he would simply say he was fine with whatever she wanted. For someone so wrapped up in his own world, it seemed like a lot of it depended on her. He was waiting for her to choose the topic of conversation. So what did she wan to talk about?

For some reason that persistent thought that had continually fought its way back to the surface of her mind popped into her mind again. What was he trying so hard to forget, to outrun, to outlive. What had happened to his family that had calloused his heart in the first place? She watched him. She watched him watching her, waiting for her to tell him what they were going to say to each other this afternoon. She knew what she wanted to talk about, but she had to think carefully about how to approach it.

"Why did you want me here?" she asked. She'd wanted to know the answer since they had left her father's castle, she'd wanted to know even more after he had given her the library, and, now that they were to a place where they found each other's company pleasant, it grated at her mind. At first she had settled with the idea that he really did need a caretaker, which he did, but the more she was here the more she thought that it was just an excuse.

It was a serious question, but in typical fashion he wrinkled his nose, heightened his voice, and hid his face behind the cup. "Place was filthy" he joked, a tell tale sign that he didn't want to continue this line of questioning. She should choose a different topic. They should stick to what they knew. But after looking him over she decided on a different method of approach. He didn't have to answer questions, he could just listen.

"I think you were lonely," she stated, placing her observations out in the open. He lowered the cup and looked at her with a small twinge of fear in his eyes. "I mean any man would be lonely" she covered tried to make it less an observation and more of an educated guess. Just as quickly as the fear had come it had gone, and yet something was different about how he was looking at her, even how he was moving. As he lowered the tea cup she realized what it was. His mask was gone. How astounding! For the first time since she'd gotten here, he was just himself. It took her breath away.

"I'm not a man," he whispered, his voice at a normal level as he shuffled awkwardly before unexpectedly leaning up against the table next to her. Not close enough to touch, but it was closer than he had ever purposefully volunteered in the past. His voice sounded so sad. He stared down at the tea cup in his hands, and her heart broke for the person that hid behind that mask, the one sitting beside her now. It dawned on her that he hadn't denied her allegations that he was lonely, and of all the things she'd felt for him over the last few months sympathy and sadness hadn't been among them, until now.

She felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, like she would comfort any friend. But she fought that instinct. She feared it would only bring him back to his senses and he would move away. But she did desperately want to make him feel better. Something inside of her knew that no matter what creature he was now, he was capable of being a man. She'd seen glimpses of it, just like she was seeing now. No monster she had ever met stared into their chipped tea cups like they were endless reflections of another life.

"So I've had, um, a couple of months, to look around, you know" she said going after a new but similar curiosity, one they had begun not long ago but never finished. "And, uh, upstairs, there's, uh, clothing," she informed him nervously, hoping this method might get him to talk to her, "small, as if for a child?" she let it be a question but she'd often traced her hands over the clothes, wondering about their origins, she was certain they could have been for nothing else. And ever since he had let slip to her that he had a family, she knew they were more important than just old rags stored in a dark room.

She had hoped he'd be prompted to say something, but still he sat, taking in her voice and staring straight ahead, saying nothing. It was awfully hard to have a conversation with a person when they refused to talk, but she could be just as stubborn as he was. He was the only one she'd seen in months, and despite what she calmly told herself, that his past didn't matter, she desperately wanted to know about it. "Was it yours?" she prodded "or was there a son?"

He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. The mix of fear and even a little shock that she had guessed right once again crossed his face. She'd never seen that combination before. She expected him to yell, for a brief moment, like he had when she had first moved in, maybe chastise her for snooping, at best she expected him to turn and walk away. But after a pause he turned and looked at her, gentle as she knew him to be.

"There was," he admitted with a painful voice, solemnly confirming her suspicions, looking her over before turning away again like he couldn't face her as he forced the words out, "there was a son. I lost him, as I did his mother." Her breath caught in her throat. Finally she had an answer! In fact, compared to what he usually offered her this was a story, a long novel. And a sad tale it was.

"Um," she stuttered, she hadn't been expecting an answer that would give her that much information, she wasn't prepared for it, or the hurt it seemed to bring him. "I'm sorry."

To lose a wife and a child was terrible. She'd found the child's clothes but never had she considered that he had a wife. She was not oblivious to the fact that while he spoke of the boy with a gentle voice he had bit the syllables off the words "his mother" like they left a bad taste in his mouth. And the fact that he was willing to claim a son, but not "a wife" said more to her than anything else. The woman was nameless, placed so far away from him he was only going to refer to her through the boy. The amount of resentment in his voice told her that it would be a story for another time, maybe when they knew each other better, when he trusted her more. For now the nameless boy was safer ground. But that couldn't stop the million questions that jumped into her mind. Had they been happy? Had they been in love like the couples in her books? How had he lost them? But the one that took root in her head came from the comment he had made earlier. What had made him difficult to love before? And what had he been before?

She bit her lip and tossed the question around in her head, wondering if she should stop and let it go or if she should just ask it and see what happened. He'd been compliant so far, who knew when they would talk again like this again. "So you were a man once," she couldn't help but smile, he must have been to have a son, "an ordinary man?" she pointed out, happily, finding the one bright spot in his story. But she wanted to hear him say it. She couldn't tell why she felt it was important to her, but she wanted to hear him say the words.

However, he said nothing. Just went back to looking everywhere but at her.

She sighed, feeling defeat, but not willing to give into it just yet. "If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life, can't I at least know you?" she asked boldly, unsure of what he would think of the proposal. He smiled, but the look on his face made her heart fall, his mask was on again. Their time was up. No doubt in a few moments he would get back to his business, she'd take the tea away and it would all be forgotten. She wouldn't mind, she didn't want to think that her questions had caused him any kind of pain.

"Perhaps" his voice had gone up as he rose and set the cup aside "perhaps you just want to learn the monsters weaknesses. Na! Na! Nanana!" he shook his fingers at her, teasing. He was back to being distrustful, back to his old self, but she could see that it was just a boundary he kept to protect himself. It had nothing to do with her or whatever their relationship was or might be. And there was that word again, "monster" that was so far from the truth. She was tired of others seeing him that way, but she knew that nothing would change as long as he believed it. She knew it as she watched his memories torture him. And she wouldn't stand to watch him inflict that kind of pain on himself. She couldn't stand it.

"You're not a monster" she corrected gently. He was taken aback by her assumption, visibly surprised and nervous. But she couldn't take it back "You think your uglier than you are that's why you cover all the mirrors up isn't it?" She raised her eye brows thinking back on the day she'd uncovered the one in the corner. She was hoping to see that same spark that she had seen moments ago when she had guessed right about his son. She wanted him to respond.

Unfortunately she would never know if her guess was right this time, because someone chosen to come pound on his door at the moment. She couldn't imagine what terrors were in his past, but she knew that it wouldn't go away with just one conversation. Still, she didn't want him to fear her, and worry that she would ever betray him. She knew, even if offered the world, she would never repeat what he had told her. She couldn't betray his trust like that. She was certain that whatever had led him to be in this state, whatever act of desperation had caused it, hadn't destroyed all of the man he once was. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so lonely.


	19. Meeting in the Middle

It wasn't unheard of, people came to him seeking help all the time. He glanced over at the door, then back at her. It was odd. Usually he stormed right out to see who had come, and to sort out a deal of some kind. It was something that he loved to do, and always put him in a pleasant mood. But this time he didn't drop everything, he didn't even look excited. He looked unhappy, maybe even angry at the interruption. He needed a moment to collect himself, even took a deep breath before nodding and excusing himself, almost politely.

It happened all the time, but she just wished it hadn't happened at that particular moment. They had finally been getting somewhere, she wanted to get somewhere farther. She wanted to know more, plain and simple. Once he was out of the room, she sighed and hopped off the table, feeling somehow different. She felt heavier, burdened, but not in a bad way, it almost felt good. She couldn't quite find the right words to describe the feeling. She walked around to the far side of the room, looking for something to do as she tried to clear her head. She settled for looking out the window and down into the valley it overlooked, stalling. She didn't know how long he was going to be. Sometimes these deals took only minutes, like her own, others took longer. There was no telling if he'd be back. Probably she should just collect the tea and look forward to talking to him tonight after dinner.

But before she could take a step toward the tray, the door behind her opened and he strode back in. She felt an unexpected surge of excitement as he joined her again. Did he know how much she wanted to continue their discussion? She slowly moved toward him feeling like they were dancing around each other awkwardly, wondering where to begin. Just like they had months ago. Suddenly she was wondering how he would treat her now that she knew part of his past. Different? Like he feared her? Or would he find he liked having someone to confide in? "Who was that?" she questioned innocently enough. Honestly, she didn't know if he would tell her. She'd never bothered to ask him before. And he'd never volunteered the information. But she figured that how he reacted to her would tell her if his feelings toward her had changed with the exchange of secrets.

"Just an old woman selling flowers," he answered gallantly. Suddenly he went into a small princely bow and presented her with a long stemmed rose. "Here," her breath stopped as she smiled and took in the unexpected gift. He had never really given her anything before, not directly at least, and certainly not just because he could. The pillow was for his work, or so he claimed. And the library had been a gift but it was a gift hidden behind a chore. And she could never actually prove that he had given her the dress that she wore now or any of the others! It was like he was actually afraid to give her anything out of kindness. But this! This was brand new. "If you'll have it?" he asked. She smiled as she plucked it from his fingers, flattered at the thought. As if she could do anything but accept it!

"Why, thank you," she muttered, taking her skirt in one hand and going into a polite curtsy, like the princess that she really was. He responded with a flourishing bow, participating in her joy. She felt heat suddenly race into her cheeks and let out a giggle. She giggled! She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed like that, or smiled as brightly as she was now. And she hadn't meant for it to look or sound so juvenile but she felt like she just couldn't control it. She turned, feeling only slightly embarrassed by her act, giving only a glance back to see him actually smiling at her. Not giggling, not mocking, but really smiling at her. He was happy. And between that and the rose he had given her, how could she resist the urge to giggle and smile with him?

"You had a life Belle" she glanced at him over her shoulder, finally getting her emotions in check and containing her smile. From the small case she kept by the fire she pulled out a pair of scissors and continued to listen "before all this." He was drawing a circle in the air with his hands, it made him look nervous, but it didn't take a genius to know what he was referring to. "Friends, family," he continued to ramble on as she went to the cabinet "what made you choose to come here with me?"

She took the question in, almost happy that he had asked it, happy that he had an interest in her, finally. Happy he was talking with her, not at her, not about her, and not about meaningless things of little consequence. But actually talking with her. It didn't hurt that she knew the answer to the question. She'd thought about it a lot in the beginning, and at that point its answer was what had told her it would all be worth it. She glanced back at him taking his seat at the table, waiting for her answer with genuine interest, and came to a startling conclusion: it had been worth it. And then some.

"Heroism" she answered him truthfully. "Sacrifice" she added as she opened the cabinet and reached for the small vase she liked to put flowers in to decorate her room "you know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to show what they can do. To see the world, to be heroes" she added closing the doors and taking her prize back to the table "so when you arrived, that was my chance.

"I always wanted to be brave" she explained snipping off the end of the rose and dropping it into the vase "I figured do the brave thing and bravery would follow," she shrugged her shoulders, explaining like it was nothing. She'd gone over this so many times in her head she didn't need to even think about it. It never dawned on her that she would probably never have told her father or Gaston the real reason she had come, her dreams were far too private for them, and they would be confused and maybe even insulted, that she had gone for herself just as much as she had gone for them and the village.

"And is it everything you hoped?"

"Well, ah," she smiled thinking of her newfound revelation as she set the rose in the middle of their table and sat on the spot she had earlier. She'd already told him something that she wouldn't have told her family, but was she ready to tell her captor she might have actually been happy with him? Happier, even? "I did want to see the world," she said resorting to a strategy of avoidance that he had perfected. "That part didn't really work out," she remarked. And before she could think about the words coming from her mouth, she nodded "but I did get to save my village." It surprised her, she hadn't known that it really had been that important to her until she'd told him. Maybe she had achieved a state of bravery after all.

He tapped his fingers together nervously, "and what about your betrothed?"

She rolled her eyes, she couldn't help herself from doing it. It was a natural reflex, one that she had practiced even in her father's castle when the man wasn't around. "It was an arranged marriage," she admitted with a shake of the head, not feeling one ounce of shame or regret at telling him. "Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston." He was smiling again, from what she couldn't be sure. It wasn't his genuine smile, but there was definitely something that he was amused with. But still Gaston had never made her quite as happy as that smile. And it certainly never produced the strange flutter in her belly. She smirked, thinking of all the ways Gaston had fallen short in her eyes.

"To me love is…" what was it? She'd read a million books on the subject. She knew what it wasn't, but what was it? "Love is layered, love is" she searched her mind for the right words "a mystery to be uncovered." In all the words that she would think of to describe Gaston 'layered' and 'mysterious' was nowhere on that list. Perhaps that was she had always dreaded their marriage, she would never have been able to love him. Care for him? Sure. But love him? Truly? Never. "I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he." And she'd never have to now. In this way he had saved her, he had provided the out, the back door, the escape route. It hadn't been at the forefront of her mind, but she could see it now. He was running from his past, she was running from her future, no wonder they'd met in the middle.

His smile disappeared, and he shook his head ever so slightly. What had upset him so suddenly she didn't know. But she panicked. She didn't want him to stop now and walk away, she wanted him to talk to her, to keep talking to her. She wanted to know everything that was filtering through his mind. She shook her head and tried to think of something completely different to talk about, something new that would change the subject and bring him back to her.

"But, um, you were going to tell me about your son," he wasn't actually, but that was the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll tell you what," he said without missing a beat, "I'll make you a deal" her heart fell at the words. Their borrowed time was over and he was back to his old self and making deals just like always. Whether this one would be beneficial or not she didn't know, but so far, her experience with his deals was that they tended to work out in her favor. So she played along and raised her eyebrows in anticipation of what he was thinking. "Go to town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale."

She processed the words he was saying slowly, then finally realized that he was asking her to do something that he'd never asked before. It was one of the tasks he had assigned her at the very beginning, but she'd never actually done it. He'd always gotten straw on his own, he'd never needed her to get it for him. And he had never asked her to leave the castle walls, not without him. Was he finally trusting her more? "But, town!" He nodded "You trust me to come back?!"

"Oh Belle," he shook his head "I expect I'll never see you again" But that meant…he was releasing her. The words were a complete surprise to her, she hadn't been expecting that. Shell shocked, she hopped off the table with a little bit less enthusiasm than before, feeling almost hurt. She placed her hand over her stomach as she turned away from him. Without another word she walked right into her dungeon, forgetting that she had just moved all of her belongings out of the space. Now she sat on her bed hunched over, cowering in her tiny cell. Freedom.

He'd freed her, sent her away, never to be seen again. She should be happy. She should feel like the luckiest person in the world. He'd saved her again, just as he had with her previous life with Gaston. She should want to take it and run and never turn back. No one would ever know that she was free, she could wander into the village and create a brand new life for herself, no one would come looking for her.

So then, why did she feel like crying? Why did she have this feeling in the pit of her stomach? Coming with him was supposed to be the bravest thing that she'd ever done, so why did leaving him terrify her? Was this payback? Had she pushed too hard? Had she dug around in his past so much that he never wanted to see her again? It was so sudden. Everything had been going great. More than great, she had thought. Why he wanted her to leave…her thoughts stopped there and she dropped her head into her hands. This made no sense.

She was feeling like she might actually cry when a new thought dawned on her: why was she letting this torture her so much? He'd freed her, given her permission to go, to see the world, to be the hero she wanted to be. She felt a smile tug at her lip, he probably thought that he was doing her a favor, and in a way, he was. She rose, surprised that her legs were shaking under her.

She took a glance around the now bare room that had been her own haven ever since arriving, but the thought of never seeing it again brought tears to her eyes. So she turned around and practically ran up the stairs. The tea set was just where she had left it, but Rumpelstiltskin was nowhere in sight. He hadn't even wanted to say good-bye? She glanced over at his spinning wheel, and picked up one of the empty baskets. She really didn't know why. Part of her said that he had given her a task to do and it was habit. But another part of her simply said that if she was going to do as he suggested, leave on an errand and never return, she might as well make it look good. The castle was silent as she collected her traveling cloak from the room she'd never used.

Nothing got in her way as she made her way to the door. And no one stopped her as she shut the front door behind her. The walk to the gate at the end of the property seemed to take forever, but as she pushed open the tall wooden door she couldn't help but look back on the castle. A figure in the window to her library moved out of sight quickly and she turned away to look at the road laid out before her. It was an adventure, it was exciting, and she was starting something new.

It was freedom!

It felt wrong.


	20. Changing Direction

The road ahead of her was straight as could be. But to her it seemed to twist and turn unpredictably. Her mind seemed to be battling with itself. On the one hand, her logical side told her to run. To leave this place and get as far away as she could. But on the other hand, a side of her that she hadn't even known was alive until she went with him told her that she was making a mistake. That she should return, or else she would regret it her entire life. The thoughts swirled around in her mind leaving her in a state of limbo. Her future was uncertain, continue on the road she walked now or go back? Her decision changed every few seconds, and it kept her from running and from walking peacefully. Her pace was quickened, but not certain, and that's when she heard the sound of a horse behind her. She turned. Half expecting it to be him coming after her. But it wasn't, and her face fell, disappointed.

It was a caravan. Two guards rode ahead on black horses while four more black horses pulled a black carriage as well. And there in the back two more guards dressed in black riding black horses. She had no idea who this was, but obviously it was someone important. Not to mention someone who liked black. They didn't slow down as they approached so she quickly moved off to the side of the road to wait for them to pass so she could continue on to…where ever her feet took her, she supposed.

Suddenly the carriage stopped as it pulled up beside her. And the door opened to a wide eyed woman, dressed in all black, the only color on her was the bit of red in her hair and the paleness of her skin. "Did my carriage splash you?" she asked, her eye brows raised, expecting an answer.

"Oh," the woman's eyes bothered her, it was like she had met her before but she couldn't even begin to guess where. So she avoided them, and glanced down at her cloak, which was just as spotless as it had been when she left. "Oh, no!" she tried to smile, tried to be pleasant "I'm fine." The strange woman smiled but it reminded her of the way a hawk might smile at a mouse it was planning on having for dinner. She didn't trust the woman. So with a final smile and a small curtsy she walked on.

"You know I'm tired of riding," she looked back at the woman, fearing the next words that would come out of her mouth. "Let me stretch my legs and walk with you for a spell." She opened her mouth to say something but she found she had no words. She didn't particularly want company. But she supposed there was no harm. She'd known women like this and they didn't go through the forest with a carriage and escorts to walk for long periods of time. She waited as the woman climbed down and held her hand up to the carriage driver. After being offered an umbrella to keep the misty rain at bay they walked to the front of the caravan and led the way.

They traveled slower than she had been before, but in silence. That worked for her. She didn't know what exactly it was but she didn't care for the woman, and she rarely had that feeling in her life. "You carry very little," the woman suddenly observed.

She shook her head, mourning the silence left behind. "Don't want to be slowed down," she commented using as few words as possible and hoping that she would get the idea that she just wanted to be left alone. She picked up her pace, the woman falling behind slightly.

"Oh, you're running from someone," the woman chuckled to herself, and she glanced back at her trying to hide the fact that her heart had suddenly sped up. She wasn't running. She couldn't run when there was no one to chase after her. Besides she had no idea what she was doing, so it couldn't be running. "The question is master or lover," she fought the urge to roll her eyes. The woman was making her uncomfortable, talking to her like she had known her much longer than she actually had. No, not talking, gossiping. She turned away from her. She wasn't interested in pursuing this discussion. She preferred to keep her secrets close to her. If the woman wasn't here she would have smiled, was this what he had felt like when she asked him questions? "Oh," the woman piqued "master _and _lover," this time she did roll her eyes.

The woman knew nothing. She may not know what she and Rumpelstiltskin were but he was not her master, at least not any more. And lovers! The idea was preposterous! She felt something for him, but it wasn't that…was it? She did enjoy talking to him. She liked being in the same room with him, sharing their meals, even in silence. He'd told her more than she believed he'd ever told anyone, and she felt…she wasn't sure what she felt. Could it be more than like? Could it be something more than just comfort and friendship pulling her back to him? Could it have been more than the desire to be brave that pulled her to him in the first place?

She stopped dead. She didn't want to think about this right now, and if the woman couldn't understand that then she didn't need to speak with her. "I might take a rest," she told her pleasantly as possible "you," she gestured to the road before them "you go on ahead."

The woman watched her and before she could pull away from her she reached out and put an unwelcome arm around her. "So if I'm right," she forced her to turn and continue to walk down the road, "you love your employer, but your leaving him."

Love was such a spectacular word. Was that what she felt for him? It was so different so unique from every other feeling that she'd ever felt before. She'd never felt nearly as excited to see Gaston as she'd felt when she saw Rumpelstiltskin. And though she loved her father it wasn't the same feeling. Hearing him tell her a story, even if it was only a couple of sentences was better than any book that she had ever read. The room he was in was the safest place in the world. The rose he offered to her had been the best gift she'd ever received in her life, second only to the library that he'd given her. "I might love him," she admitted with a swallow, surprised that the words had come out of her mouth. Love was a spectacular word, but the feeling when she stood close to him, was spectacular. She smiled at the thought, she had no problem giving love. She had done it her entire life. Was it really so outlandish to believe that she could love him and he could love her back.

Her mind paused at an unpleasant realization. "I mean I could except…" she fought to find the words. He wouldn't love her back. That required trust, something that had been stolen from him a long time ago. He didn't have it to give. And though she had seen a change in him since she'd first arrived she knew that the change was contained to her alone. He was still the same man to the entire world. It appeared that he had left an impression on her, but she doubted that she could make one that deep on him. His heart, it was capable of love, she fully believed that, but she wasn't sure he did. There was something else planted in it, and she didn't think she was strong enough to wipe it out. "Something evil has taken root in him," she said finally. It was in that moment that she realized that she hadn't thought of this for the first time today. She'd had these thoughts before. It was just the first time someone had given her the word for what she felt.

She did love him.

"Sounds like a curse to me," the woman said with a smile. She looked at the woman with interest. A curse? She'd never gotten him to tell her how he had come to be in his state after being human. She'd considered that he was cursed but not in the sense she was speaking of. She meant a spell gone wrong. Could it have been a curse? A real curse? What could be done about it then? She had no magical abilities. There was no way for her to help him, not that he would take it even if she offered. As if sensing her thoughts the woman informed her "and all curses can be broken," she eyed her suspiciously, eager to hear the answer. If there was anything she could do to free him of his curse she'd do it. She'd go anywhere for him, do anything. Her thoughts caught her off guard. To think she didn't even know how she felt for him before the carriage pulled up. "A kiss born of true love would do it," she stilled, raising her eye brows in shock. If the woman wasn't pulling her along she would have stopped walking.

A kiss?! No, not just any kiss. True love's kiss. She was only ready to admit a few moments ago that she loved him, was it more than that? True love, the most powerful magic in the world. Yes, she'd heard him say that once or twice. Was the connection between them that powerful? She didn't even need to think, she knew the answer. Of course it was that strong. How else would a caretaker like her have been able to effect him in the way that she had over the last few months? How could she feel so strongly for him and believe in him after all she'd seen him do? The realization hit her like a wave beating a rock on the shore, wearing her thin until she knew exactly what had happened between them. She didn't just like him, she loved him, and it wasn't just any kind of love, it was true love. She was in love with Rumpelstiltskin! The awkwardness they's shared, the connection, his softened heart, she had sensed that the answer was simple and she was right! All this time, they hadn't just been sharing the same space...they'd been falling in love with one another. She knew that now, but did he? Is that why he sent her away? Could her presence have scared him that much?

"Ah, child no!" she woman laughed continuing to pull her along. "I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive," she said, misunderstanding her silence and shock. "What kind of message is that?" she heard her mutter to herself.

"Right," she muttered agreeing with her. It was absurd. So why was she thinking about actually doing it? What would it be like to actually kiss him? To be that close to him? To cure the man of the monster within? She didn't even know how he felt about her.

"Besides if he loves you," the woman continued in her gossip tone "he would have let you go," she stared ahead of her, thinking of their last encounter "and if he doesn't love you well then, the kiss won't even work," she said with certainty.

"But" so many thoughts were running around in her head, she couldn't keep up with them and she just needed to stop for a moment "but he did let me go," she said pulling away and looking at the woman. Was that all? Was that the reason he'd let her go? Not for payback or because he was upset with her but out of guilt? Because he loved her? Because he wanted her to come back to him not as a slave or captive, but as a free woman?

"Yes, but no kiss happened," of course not she'd been too dazed and shocked at the time to kiss him. She hadn't even known she'd loved him. Leaving was a mistake. She had to go back to him. She had to see him, if she didn't, she just knew that she would spend the rest of her life wondering…wondering if someone who made her feel the way that he did would ever show up. Finding another man wasn't even an acceptable possiblity in her mind any more. It was him. She knew it was. People waited lifetimes for true love, she couldn't give it up.

"And a kiss" she asked, desperately needing to know "a kiss is enough?" it seemed too simple, "he'd be a man again?"

The woman leaned forward with a smile, "an ordinary man," she whispered. "True loves kiss," she said slowly "will break any curse." It was the answer to everything. She smiled, she could do this. She could rescue him. As the thoughts worked their way into her head and her heart, she suddenly found herself wondering how she had missed the simple fact of love? The only hero she wanted to be was his.

From the side one of the men in black came up to the woman. "Well," she said suddenly perky, "it seems I need to be on my way. Enjoy your journey, where ever it may take you." She turned back to her carriage the guard escorting her the entire way. Before she got in she turned back to her "I do hope we'll see each other again someday," she said with that same greasy smile. But she couldn't focus on that now, not after what she had told her, not with the feelings boiling inside her.

The carriage passed her by leaving her alone on the long road. Only now the road no longer looked unpredictable. She knew where it would lead her. It would take her back to him. She smiled and glanced down at the basket she had forgotten about in her hand. Not yet, first she had an errand to make.


	21. True Love's Kiss

After she'd gathered the straw as he'd requested she'd had to keep herself from running back to the castle. She couldn't help the beaming smile she felt on her face. She had a secret and it made her feel more alive than she'd ever felt at her father's palace. Oh, she had felt it before, here with him, only now she knew why. She loved him, and she was nearly certain that he loved her too. Everything that the woman on the road had said made complete sense to her and it was this feeling that made going to the castle seem to take three times as long as it should have.

It was dark when she returned. She looked on the beloved castle with a sigh of relief as she opened the door at the outer wall. The last time she'd left she really hadn't known if she would ever see it again. When she had first arrived, it had seemed like a dark prison. But what a long time ago that had been! Now the very sight of it sent a strange warmth into her belly and the thought of the clean friendly rooms she'd created gave her a small sense of pride. It was different indeed. It was home now. Her home. Their home?

She was distracted by a sudden movement in the upper tower, in her library. Something was in the window, but had quickly moved away. She didn't think it was possible but her smile grew. Had he been in her library? Had he been sulking over her departure, just like she had been? On the journey back she'd been adding up all of the evidence in her favor. Everything that she had noticed that might suggest that the woman on the road was right, and that he loved her. As she began to walk toward the entrance she silently added this to that list.

She opened the front door with newfound happiness and paused in the entryway, she was home. She stopped at the table to remove her cloak, knowing that the fire in their room would be ablaze and threaten to smoke her out of it if she didn't. Then she gathered the basket of straw and draped the cloth over her arm.

She was about to walk into their room when she found herself coming to an abrupt halt. Her emotions suddenly seemed overwhelming. She was too anxious, and excited, and scared, and happy, and feeling about a million other sensations. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to walk in there and…? The thought caused her to blush. How was she going to do this? Could she? She'd had her own kisses stolen from Gaston but she'd never been the one to actually initiate anything! How did a person start something as intimate as a kiss? Then again that was the answer, wasn't it?

Everything else came easily to them: normally, naturally, and, yes, even intimately. And it felt right each and every time, even if they hadn't been trying to make it so. She loved him. That had happened so instinctively she hadn't even noticed it. She was back now. She was free. Nothing could go wrong so long as the two of them were together. She had to hope that this would too. Maybe it wouldn't happen tonight. There was no reason it had to. She'd walk in that door, and instead of planning for it, she'd see where life took them. No matter where or when it happened, she was certain, it would be the perfect time. There would be nothing stolen about that kiss.

With a deep breath she hitched the basket of hay up a little higher and pushed the door open. Suddenly she felt aware of how awkwardly she walked. How eager she must seem. Would he notice? Her walk? Her blush? Her unrestrained smile? Had he been picking up on the little things like this since the beginning? Or was it all in her head?

He was looking over at her. She was trying not to notice the way his eyes seemed drawn to her. She was trying, but she wasn't successful. How had she gone this long without understanding what that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach was? "Oh, good! You're back already," he said like he always expected she would return. Did he? Did he know that she loved him? Did he know that he did? Did he? She placed her cloak over the back of his chair. "Good thing," he said turning back to his spinning wheel, "I'm, uh, I'm nearly out of straw."

Her newfound feelings didn't eliminate her ability to sense what he was feeling, to figure out what he was thinking, just by the look on his face. But it did explain it. And she was happy to see the look that told her that his calm demeanor was a lie. He was probably just as excited as she was, and turning back to his spinning wheel, was merely an attempt to distract himself so that he wouldn't concentrate on her too much. It was as if he couldn't allow himself to feel excited that she was back. Normally knowing the truth would have been enough for her, but she wanted him to know it as well, wanted him to feel it.

"Mmm," she set the straw down in its proper place, and addressed her suspicions, "Come on, you're happy I'm back!" she exclaimed, daring to tease the man before her. She seemed to hold her breath, she wanted to hear him say the words, and waiting on them was agonizing. Being near him felt strange. That nervous fluttering in her stomach seemed to increase as she stood before him, waiting. But this little bubble they seemed to be in, the same one that made her feel eerily nervous, also made her feel warm and safe. Then again maybe it was simply because she knew the answer to her unaddressed question.

He leaned forward suddenly. "I am not unhappy," he admitted. He couldn't bring himself to say the words, but the ones he had used were as good as a confession. It was as if he was trying to joke, trying to put up an invisible wall he kept his heart behind, but it was a weak attempt. And walking through that barrier was only too easy for her, especially when she considered what exactly those words meant. He was happy she'd come back to him. She walked around the spinning wheel a blush forming on her cheeks. Her nerves couldn't decide if they should reduce or increase. Could he see that? Could he see how she reacted to him? Did he ever think about why that happened?

She took a swallow and stepped up behind him resting her hands on his shoulders unwilling to let him go back to his spinning. "And, uh, you promised me a story," she pointed out suddenly realizing that he no longer flinched at her touch or shrunk away from her like he had when she first arrived.

"Did I?!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking nervously. She hadn't forgotten their deal. She knew that he hadn't either but rather was hoping that she had, or hoping that she would see he was busy and wouldn't bring it up. She wasn't willing to let him get away that easily though. She had told him her secret thoughts and she wanted to know his. What had happened to his family? His wife? His son? Who had been in his life since then?

She gave a noise of confirmation and reached down boldly to pluck the string out of his hand and rest it neatly over the spool of the wheel. Then made herself comfortable on the wheel next to him. He observed her, almost like he was afraid of her and startled by her actions. But it was endearing, had he ever been afraid of a deal that he had made before? Had anyone ever taken this much interest in him? Taken this much control over a situation? Or over his life? She doubted it. She dared to make another move, cross another barrier, and rested her hand on his leg. She meant it to comfort him, to let him know that even if the story was tragic, as she suspected it was, it couldn't scare her away. It couldn't make her see him any different, and she would be there for whatever he needed. Her heart fluttered in her chest. How had it taken her this long to realize she loved him? Hadn't she seen how wholly devoted to him she was already? "Tell me about your son," she encouraged gently.

"Ah," he flexed his fingers nervously like he was trying to figure out how to put as much distance between them as he could, but couldn't bring himself to move away from her. The distance he sought wasn't physical. "Well," the idea of telling this story scared him, she could see that, but she wanted him to tell her. She wanted him to know that he could tell her anything, his secrets would be safe with her. "I lost him," he said finally repeating the words he had earlier, his smile pained and his eyes tortured with whatever memory lay behind them. It was tragic, she only needed those three words to know it. "There's nothing more to tell really," he said putting up his guards again. There was more to tell, she could sense it. But it was ok, she didn't need to hear that story yet. They were making their own right here and right now. There would be plenty of time to learn but she had to know how this would turn out first. And maybe he would be more willing to tell her the rest of the story if he knew what she was to him.

"And since then," she swallowed, looking up at him saddened by his words and emotions but also so nervous she could barely stand to sit still. "You've loved no one," she assumed sadly "and no one has loved you."

He seemed to stare at her for a while, like he suspected he knew the meaning behind her questions and the words that she'd used but couldn't believe it. It wouldn't surprise her if he did know the meaning, words were an art form to him. But, still, it was a strange look and an even stranger reaction. There seemed to be a million emotions behind it, too many to pick out. It was like the question tortured him in some way, but she couldn't figure out why it would. He leaned closer to her, and regarded her as he never had before. It was as if he could see deeper into her than anyone ever had in her life. Maybe he did. She'd long thought that he understood her better than anyone. Maybe this was why.

"Why did you come back?" he whispered. He was asking a question, but it didn't sound like one. She wasn't even sure he was asking her. It was as if he was asking the universe, the gods, fate, destiny, why she had come back. There was an accusation buried deep beneath the words. And looking at him now she realized that the mask she had seen come and go in various shades wasn't just lowered, it was gone. He was upset, but he was also afraid, as if returning had confirmed his worst fear. He knew why she had come back, and it scared him, terrified him by the looks of it. But he couldn't seem to pull himself away from her. Was it because he felt the same sensations that she felt drawing her closer to him? If the woman on the road was right, he loved her back, so what could scare him so much? Did he think it was his looks? That didn't matter to her. What she had seen of who he was inside was far more beautiful to her.

"I wasn't going to," she admitted, her heart speeding up. They were drawing closer, like two magnets that had no choice but to attach themselves to one another. She was nervous. She'd kissed a man before. But never romantically. Gaston's kisses were always quick and possessive, like he'd been doing it to let the world know she was his. But the second he'd been gone, she'd quickly sneered and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. But this, this would be different. She knew that it would be, if only she could convince herself to close the distance between them. "But, then," she was shaking, her knees knocking together nervously. Then what?! She had met a mysterious woman on the road who had told her of her heart's desire and sent her back here? "Something changed my mind," she chose to say instead of giving a full account. It was now or never. There was nothing she needed to say, nothing he needed to know. And if she didn't do it now her courage might wane.

It was the longest and slowest moment of her life. He was right there! But he seemed so far away. She was happy to see, though, that she wasn't making the journey completely on her own. He leaned in too, if only slightly, and with confidence she closed her eyes, deciding to let her body do what came naturally. Her mouth seemed to know where it was going, and she was surprised to find soft lips suddenly matching hers.

She was right. It was different. She was no expert, not on kissing. But was it her imagination, or was he kissing her back? It wasn't much, they simply held on for longer than she expected, savoring the feel of something much more intimate than the touching of a hand or a hug, and something far more natural and instinctual than holding his arms out to catch her when she fell. This was perfect. It was the happiest place in the world, and her instincts screamed at her to wrap her arms around him and allow him to envelop her completely, that she wanted more, that she needed more. But she couldn't, she had to see first, she had to know. So she opened her eyes and was met with a sight more beautiful than anything she could have ever dreamed of.


	22. Accusations

It was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. She hadn't been expecting it and her mouth fell open with a silent gasp that turned into a happy smile. "Oh, what's happening?" he muttered. She knew exactly what was happening, she could see it, but he couldn't. How must it have felt for the one experiencing this wonderful transformation?! Before her eyes that greenish gold tint to his skin suddenly began to fade away. Starting with his lips, the place she had kissed him first and moving outward: nose, cheeks, chin, even his hair was taking on a lighter more natural shade.

It had worked. She'd broken his curse! Which could only mean one thing: he was her true love. No wonder she'd felt drawn to him, no wonder she'd never feared him, he was meant for her and she had been meant for him. There was a whole new world of possibilities opening up for them now, and she wanted nothing more than for the transformation to be complete and for them to begin discovering it together!

Boldly she reached out and pushed the soft hair away from his face. "Kiss me again!" she begged. His eyes. She could see his eyes now. Gazing down at her were no longer those strange searing reptilian eyes but gentle brown ones. They watched her with the same interest the others had as she spoke the words. They were taking in every sensation every word that she had said, trying to comprehend what had just happened, trying to understand. "It's working," she exclaimed for his sake and to her own relieved nerves.

"What is?" he asked his voice deep without any hint of the high pitches she'd become so accustomed to. And her heart skipped a beat as she felt him reach out for her, placing his hands at her waist. It was so natural, so perfect. Yet still he looked confused. It was like he was getting his senses back, his eyes squinting like they had to, for the first time, adjust to the low light around them. It was almost as if he was coming out of a dizzy spell, and she was grateful that he'd been sitting down. This moment couldn't have been more perfect, couldn't have been any better if she'd had a hundred years to plan it.

She smoothed his hair back and looked at him, excited for what had happened, excited to tell him what she had learned, and excited to see what he would do with himself now. "Any curse," she whispered to him, repeating the words the woman on the road spoke to her only a short while ago, "can be broken." She watched him as his jaw dropped and the words processed. She waited for the reaction, wondering what would happen next, what he would do what he would say. She waited to see the amazement and wonder on his face at what had been done.

Suddenly he pulled away from her so violently that it sent the stool he'd been sitting on flying across the room. "Who told you that?!" he yelled. Her jaw dropped, not only was this not the reaction she'd been planning on but the sudden violent outburst seemed to have stopped any progress that the curses cure had made and she found herself staring back at the same monstrous form she'd been confronting since she first laid eyes on him months ago. "Who knows that?!" he demanded when she didn't answer. She'd been so shocked that she forgot he'd asked her a question.

She still felt shocked, she couldn't believe this was happening couldn't believe what she was staring at. "I, I don't know…" Her brain seemed to have paused and she had to shake her head and look away from him to try and get it to work again. Who'd told her that? She knew the answer to this question. "She, she, uh, she." She took a risk and looked up at him, he wasn't looking at her. He seemed to have realized something and had raised his hands to silence her.

He spun on the spot "She…" he muttered like the word was as good as a name to him. She watched as he walked determinedly over to that mirror that he kept covered up. The one that he'd warned her about uncovering, telling her that she could never tell who would be looking back at her. She stood to watch his actions, equal parts amazed and disappointed. No matter how much she wanted to she couldn't seem to stop watching him.

"You. Evil. Soul!" He shouted, punctuating each word with anger. And despite his earlier warnings he snapped the thick covering off of the glass and looked into the mirror. She saw nothing. Nothing but him and her own reflection wringing her hands nervously as she wondered what she should do now. "This was you!" he yelled at the mirror, still no one appeared. "You turned her against me," she walked forward wondering if she would see something different if only she got closer to the object. But it was just a mirror, he was only talking to himself. No, there had to be more to this. She had never known him to be insane, or act this way before. There had to be someone he was talking to somehow. "You think you can make me weak," he accused "you think you can defeat me!"

"Who are you talking to?" she asked bravely, finally getting her thoughts together. Was there any way this moment could be salvaged.

"The Queen!" he squealed into the mirror, then turned and faced her. "Your friend the Queen!" The Queen? The Evil Queen? She'd known of her but she'd never met her. Her village had never involved themselves with her affairs especially after all the rumors started. Why would she be friends with a person like that? "How did she get to you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

She didn't like the look on his face. He'd never looked at her with that much anger in all the time since she'd been here. Not even when she had freed Robin Hood. And though she'd never feared him, she suddenly feared his temper and his words. He needed to calm down, he needed to understand. She needed to understand. "The, the Queen?" she stuttered with a shake of her head. None of what he was saying made sense to her. "I don't…"

"I knew this was a trick," he accused creeping closer to her with all the grace of a hunter stalking his prey. She had to fight the urge to run. "I knew you could never care for me," care for him? She'd just broken his curse! How could she not care for him?! Whatever anger he had toward the Queen, the rage was blinding him, making him unable to see what he had right in front of him. "Oh, yeah," he whispered like he'd just pieced everything together. "You're working for her," he accused, she meant to defend herself but he cut her off again "Or is this all you?" he questioned "Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?"

She had to get him to see. She wasn't trying to hurt him she was trying to help him. How could he have seen a curse breaking as threatening? "It was working…"

"Shut up!" he screamed cutting her off.

"This means it's true love," she shouted back, hoping the words would reach the man inside of him.

"Shut the hell up!" he yelled louder.

This had all gone so wrong! How could this have happened? It should have been easy. So why was she trying to prove something to him with words when her actions should have been all the proof he needed. "Why won't you believe me?" she cried, begged really. But he was gone, the monster was fighting back and had his claws in him so deep that she had never seen him acting this bad in all the time they'd had together.

Suddenly the monster grabbed her roughly around the arms and shook her furiously. She closed her eyes trying to brace herself against his rage. "Because no one, no one, can ever, ever, love me!" he screamed. He released one of her arms and pulled, practically dragged, her toward the hall and down into the dungeons. She fought him at first but the grip on her arm only tightened, enough to know that she would be seeing bruises there in no time at all.

Before her suddenly was the cell that she'd spent her months living in. It was bare and she had a second the remember that it was because she had planned to change rooms before reality hit her and she was forcefully thrown into the dungeon and landed, fortunately enough, on all fours, her palms scrapping against the stone and her knees stinging painfully as they caught her weight and absorbed the blow. She felt a brief moment of thankfulness that it wasn't her nose that had met the hard stone surface, and then she heard the door creak closed and slam shut behind her. The click of the lock seemed to echo inside the hallow space, taunting her failed actions. But it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of the tears that suddenly began streaming down her face, the sharp intakes of scared and ragged breathes, and the wrenching sound of her heart beat as it began to break. She balled herself up there on the ground and wept as she realized what had just happened. It seemed clear enough to her. In only one brief moment the delicate pieces of her soul had shattered into a million broken shards. And she didn't know if they could ever be put back together.


	23. Brave Words of Truth

She couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. She couldn't move. Not even to sip the tea that had appeared in the cell with her chipped cup. She just sat there, staring at the door, willing it to open for her. She had spent the endless days and hours thinking of every possible scenario of what would happen when it did finally give way. In her imagination she had already stormed out without a word, rushed off to talk to him, yelled at him, and insisted that she was going to stay. In her mind he had responded with every possible reaction: he'd told her she was right and begged for forgiveness, he hadn't said anything and stalked off, he'd watched her silently leave, and he told her that he couldn't stand the thought of her going because he loved her.

He did. That much was clear. The curse had been breaking. She thought back to the moment before he had realized it was breaking. How he had kissed her back. How he had reached for her as his skin had changed and grasped her arms ever so gently, like she was the only one that he had ever needed. He was her true love and she was his. But he didn't want to believe it. It wasn't her. It was the power. She had assumed that he wanted freed from his curse but obviously that was not the case. His curse gave him the power and it had become so much a part of him it was no wonder that he had lost track of the man inside. He was so desperate to hold on to that infernal power that he had convinced himself that no one could ever love him. She could. Even after all this, she knew that she still could, if only he would just admit it. If he would let her go and choose her over his power, she could help him to see how much of a man he really was.

As if she had summoned him, the door to her prison suddenly swung open with a creak and banged against the wall. She startled at the sound and stared as he walked into the small room. All the words, all the imaginary conversations that she'd had here alone left her mind. She'd built a cocoon of courage in this cell and now that the door was open it was escaping her. She swallowed hard, trying to slow her heart rate, and not burst into tears at the sight of him. Words. She needed words. "So," she whispered, hoping he could hear her meek voice. "What are you going to do to me?" She had wondered this the entire time. Would she spend the remainder of her life locked in this little cell? Would they work out their differences? Or would he just decide that she was still his maid and they would remain together in painful separation for all of their days? She didn't think she could bear that. Not knowing what she knew.

He was watching her, just as she was him, with the same amount of pain on his face that she bore. She didn't expect it to be an easy decision but she still wanted an answer. He raised his arm and pointed at the door, and with his teeth clenched together ordered simply, "Go."

Go where? The Library? Clean? Out of this terrible cell? She watched, expecting him to say more to her, to explain. Instead he turned his back on her, not saying a word. "Go?" she prompted, never had such a simple word confounded her or held so much weight.

"I don't want you any more dearie," her chest heaved with his words. She'd faced this in her mind, but she didn't actually think this would be how he'd respond. At the very least she expected to remain here in some capacity. She didn't expect the words to be like that though. She felt like it was ages ago, when she'd first shown up and been locked in and called "dearie". He was putting space between them again, separating them not just physically but also emotionally. "Dearie" made her no better than the nameless people he made deals with. He was attempting to make it easier. On who? Himself? Her? It was much too late for that.

She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes as she stood and brushed herself off, daring to give him a glance. This was it? After everything he'd been through this was really how it was going to end? One poorly timed decision and he dismissed her with a few unfeeling words?! She felt her legs carry her out of the cell, all the time hoping he would call her back at the last minute and say something. But he didn't.

Then she would. A rush of intense courage flooded her body making her stop just outside the door. If he wanted her to go then she would. It was supposed to be easy for two people truly in love and she didn't want to fight for something that should have, that had, come to them naturally. But she wouldn't leave him with the upper hand in this. What was happening wasn't her fault, he had made the choice and he had to know exactly what he had chosen.

Riding the wave of bravery she turned on her heel and stormed back into the place that was her prison, that he was voluntarily locking himself into. She stepped in front of him, forcing him to take his eyes off the window and meet her gaze. After this moment he could put all the space between the two of them that he wanted, but for now she was going to break into as much of it as she could. It was her last stand. "You were freeing yourself!" she yelled, her voice raw from the tears she had cried for him. "You could have had happiness if you just believed someone could want you!" She could see the sadness painted on his face. But she couldn't allow herself to feel sorry for him. He was doing this to himself, not her. "But you couldn't take a chance," she said more to herself than to him.

"That's a lie" he whispered.

She shook her head at the words and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and find the words that she needed to say because she knew that she might never get this opportunity again. It wasn't a lie. If it was he wouldn't look this sad, he wouldn't look like his best friend in the world had just died, maybe she had. She certainly didn't feel like the person she was when she befriended him. She took a step closer to him, closer than she'd ever dared come before that wretched night. "You're a coward Rumpelstiltskin," she didn't know where the words were coming from, only that they were true. "And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change."

He didn't yell, he didn't interrupt, he didn't even give an inappropriate giggle. "I'm not a coward, dearie," he whispered harshly. Something about her words had touched a nerve, and he was being just as human with her as she was him. Good, he owed her that much. "It's quite simple really, my power means more to me than you." Anyone else might have taken him at his word, but it was too late for her. She'd been with him too long, she'd peered behind his mask, and knew what he was thinking and feeling. He couldn't hide from her. He did love her, and he did love his power. But his power wasn't what he treasured, it was his shield. And like any good coward would he was using it to protect himself against the fear he was really feeling.

She took another step forward "No," she answered looking at his face. If this was it, then he was going to know exactly what she knew and what he wouldn't let himself know. "No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you." This time it was him that had to take a deep breath. She saw the shock under his stony expressionless face. She had been right. All along, she had been right. And he couldn't hide the panic shinning in his eyes. He was trying to hurt her. He was trying to make her leave. If he didn't, she knew, as well as he, one day she might really wear him down, and he wasn't willing to risk that. She wasn't going to live her life like that. He didn't have to make her leave. She had heard all she needed to and she was about to make it really easy on him.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. She wanted everything to be forgiven, she wanted him to admit it to her, but she needed to say the next words. And they were the most difficult words she'd ever said in her life. More difficult than her first "thank you", than the "yes" she'd said to her father about marrying Gaston, more difficult than the words "I will go with you, forever". But she'd managed once, she would manage now. "Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it." She tried not to think of what would become of him after she left. What her life would be like now that she would never see him again. But the images crept into her mind, and they were the catalyst that broke her voice and made her eyes swim with tears. Him sitting alone by the fire. Her reading a book that would never truly satisfy. Making deals. Cleaning kitchens. "Forever," one look at his eyes told her that the words were sinking into him, and he knew they were true. No adventure, no story, no amount of time, no thought would ever compare to what they had shared. "All you'll have is an empty heart," she had to take a deep breath to make sure that her words weren't coming out in an agonizing cry as she felt her heart begin to shrivel in her chest for what she was about to do to them both. "And a chipped cup," she bit off the last word and watched him. His face showed signs of the hurt that she was feeling but he didn't act on them. She could.

Not being able to say good-bye, and not being able to hold the hurt in any longer she turned on her heel and hurried out of the dark dungeon. She marched up the stairs, their favorite room blurring as tears clouded her sight, vaguely aware of the strange crunching under her feet. She pulled open the heavy wooden door and ran down the path, putting as much space between the two of them as she could, not even daring to glance back at the place she felt like she was leaving her heart. She just hoped that he somehow knew that, and that he would keep it safe for her. She may not have the gift of knowing the future but she hoped she was wrong. She hoped the two of them could scrape together what was left of their tragic cowardly lives and move on.

Her legs failed her. She found herself on that same road she had first met the strange woman, and exhausted from running, mind racing a mile a minute, her legs fell out from under her and she collapsed against a tree. It was there that she let out the most heart breaking cry that she had ever heard in her life and allowed herself to sob. She hoped they wouldn't regret this choice, but as another howl worked its way passed her lips, she suddenly doubted it.


	24. Love is Hope

She had been stupid really. Wandering around, village to village, not really caring if she ate or if she drank, not paying attention to how tired she really was instead of just exhausted and heartbroken. It was unnatural, being separated from a person's true love. There was a reason that people who were in love got married and had babies and seemed to be eternally happy. It was because not being with them was a fate worse than death. Or so it seemed to her.

But it had gotten her here at least. It had shown her that there were still good people in the world. Her body had been unable to cope, unable to handle the stress that she was putting it through and it wasn't long after arriving here that she realized, too late it seemed, that the pain and discomfort she was feeling wasn't from her soul, but her body in need of food, water, and rest. Her head had been spinning when she saw the tavern but she somehow managed to wander in and ask, beg, for something to drink before her world went black.

Upon waking, she discovered that she'd passed out. At least that's what the wife of the man who owned the tavern told her when she woke up in the strange room. She'd been placed in one of their upper rooms they used for travelers, given water, slept, and after a few days had returned to the land of the living, if she could call it that. She was weak, but still alive. She'd vowed then that she wasn't going to let what had happened kill her off entirely, as it almost had. It could take her soul, she didn't want it any more, she didn't need one that was infected with his glances and small touches, one that lifted at the sound of his voice, and fell when he told her to "go!" She could make a new soul for herself, she already had a body to put it in, she just had to start taking care of that body. After a few more days of rest, water, and food the owners of the tavern allowed her to stay if she worked for a lower wage to pay back the debt she owed them. In return, and besides that wage, they would give her a meal and place to stay the night until she could get on her feet again.

It was a generous offer, and she'd taken them up on it right away. There was no reason not to in her mind. She had nowhere else to go. No one waiting for her. She didn't want to be a princess again; she wasn't ready to face that. So she had simply given them the name Belle, and hoped that it was common enough and far enough away from the rumors that she wouldn't be known.

The town wasn't so bad. It was a mining town, and so the tavern was often full at night with men who earned wages during the day and came here to drink away their sorrows and forget their pitiful lives. And then there were the funny dwarves who came in after their shift in the mines. They stood out simply because they were happy with their work and enjoyed each others presence. Her job here was simple. She would wait at night, for everyone to leave so that she could help to clean the bar in the morning's light. The wife of the owner who she was friendly with but wouldn't say that she was friends with, gave her free ale and left her to silence her own despair with it. It was often loud but she liked it that way. Between the ale that seemed to dull the voice in her head and the noise that drowned it out she very rarely had time to think about anything, in particular him.

Tonight she was watching the table of dwarves across from her, enjoying each other's company, playing jokes, and laughing just like always. She felt a stab of pain as she watched them. She'd never feel that way again. No, he'd kept the part of her that allowed her to feel things like happiness. And just the act of watching other's having a good time made her feel physically ill and sad. She turned her attention away from the happy dwarves, and back to the one that seemed isolated from the rest. He was watching the others with that same look of wanting to feel happiness but not being able. She wondered if that was just part of his personality or if something was wrong. But she couldn't bring herself to ask him, her days of trying to help were over. It hadn't worked out so well for her last time.

And it appeared she didn't need to, another dwarf had picked up on his wistful demeanor and come over taking the seat opposite him. "What's the matter?" he asked. She turned her head, eager to hear what it was bothering the poor dwarf but trying to appear as she wasn't listening and that she didn't care what was happening with him. "You've barely touched your food."

"I don't know," the dwarf answered with a confused sigh. "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't feel at all like myself. Maybe I should have Doc take a look at me," he mused. Now she purposefully tried not to listen. She knew the cause of those symptoms and she could barely deal with her own heartache, the last thing she needed was to deal with his as well.

"You're going to trust a dwarf that got his medical degree from a pick axe?" Despite trying not to listen the words still found their way to her, determine to make her think about what she didn't want to. Though she did have to admit, the comment did make her smirk a bit. Not only did the dwarf have a good point, but no doctor would ever be able to tell him what was wrong. His physical problems were only a manifestation of the emotional turmoil within him. "I wouldn't worry about it, dwarfs don't get sick. Must be in your head," the other dwarf hypothesized.

"It's not in his head it's in his heart" she muttered to herself, but it had come out too loudly and both of the dwarves turned to look at her. Her eyes widened as she realized what had happened. She hadn't wanted to get involved but it looked as though her mouth had other plans. Couldn't she do anything right anymore? The dwarves stared at her, not because they were angry that she'd been listening but rather they looked like they wanted her to explain more. Shrugging her shoulders like it was nothing, but still unable to come up with a decent friendly smile she stated "You're in love."

She hoped it was the only explanation that they would need. That the light bulb would click and they would laugh at how silly it was they hadn't realized it to begin with, but instead the dwarf across from him rebuked her theory "aw, that's impossible. Dwarves can't fall in love!"

She found herself leaning forward, if monsters could fall in love, if a beast could become a man again because of love, then there was no doubt in her mind. Dwarves most certainly could fall in love. "Trust me," she muttered, trying to sound pleasant and not pessimistic about the concept that had ruined her life instead of completing it. "I know love and you're in it," she said regretfully. Part of her wished she didn't know the look of it so well, that she had never known it, but that idea gave her a pain in her chest that was even more numbing than the idea of never having met him. So she wished instead that there could have been a better outcome to their story.

The other dwarf gave a dismissive hand wave at her ideas and left, but the other one, the dwarf suffering turned toward her with great interest. "What's it like?" he asked eagerly.

It was like having a knife in your heart and someone turning it just for fun. It was like free falling off a cliff and reaching a terrible sudden ending as body met ground. It was like having your heart ripped from your chest and being held captive to another. It was…her dark thoughts came to a sudden stop.

It couldn't be as bad as all that. If it was, then true love wouldn't be known for love, it would be called "true pain" or "true suffering" instead. That was what hers had felt like…did feel like, and that was precisely the problem. The dwarf hadn't been rejected by his true love, not yet at least. And besides, the thought of him, being with him, and the idea of true love, hadn't always been that painful to her. It hadn't all been bad. It might have been at the end, but before, that was a different emotion, a different feeling all together. For the first time in weeks she found herself giving a smile and blushing as she remembered him catching her off the ladder, the look he'd given her when she'd first worn her blue dress, and even the feel of him sitting next to her on the table as they'd reflected on his past, and the looks he'd given her as she'd spoken of her hopes and dreams.

No, it wasn't all bad. "It's the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world," she explained, focusing on those moments. How to describe that feeling seemed impossible, but then again, she wasn't explaining it to someone who'd never had it. He was in it. Right now. Her thoughts would make more sense to him than they would to anyone else in the world. "Love is hope," she reflected, thinking back to the moment of perfection just before she'd made the terrible decision to kiss him. "It fuels our dreams," or in her case makes a Princess realize that for the first time in her life she didn't need to be a princess, or a hero. From where she sat now all the ambitions she'd ever had paled in comparison to the dream that she had left behind. As long as he was by her side she could do anything, be anything. And if she wasn't…love could also destroy those dreams in an instant.

But he didn't need to hear that now, it was the one part of the story, he wouldn't understand. "And if you're in it," she continued after a pause, "you need to enjoy it," she insisted, wishing that she had had more time to enjoy the feeling of being in love with him. Savor the idea that someone loved her back in that way, before the brief knowledge that she had love had ended so suddenly. "Because love doesn't always last forever," she whispered. Her mind remembered that terrible feeling of being rejected. Was it that love didn't last forever or just that he was incapable of returning it? Sometimes she still felt like she loved him, thought that if she didn't then it wouldn't still hurt her to think of him and their time together. It was a thought that kept her awake at night, and the one she tried to avoid during the day.

"But if love's so great, why do I feel so bad right now?" he asked, voicing the very question that went through her mind several times every day. She knew the answer to it as well. She'd had too much time to think about it.

"You need to be with the person you love," she explained. Nothing would be right for him until he was with her again, which was why nothing would ever be right for her again. Why she couldn't smile anymore.

"Yeah, but, how do I know she feels the same way. All she talked about was going to see some fireflies, not loving me." She was glad he had moved onto the next question quickly, the idea of explaining how you knew another person loved you wasn't one that she was comfortable talking about. In fact, this entire conversation had gotten far too personal for her taste, and she was already feeling the lump in her throat when he asked his question. She might not know much about love, but she was a girl after all. What he was asking her had less to do about love and more to do about how woman communicated. She could translate easily enough.

"What, what did she tell you about these fireflies?" she asked suspiciously.

"Ah, that she was going to go see them on the hilltop tonight, that she heard they were the most beautiful sight in all the land." There was a memory there. Of hiding away in some obscure corner of the castle so that he would come find her and make a request that would inevitably place her in the same room as he was. She hadn't done it purposefully at first, but as time wore on she found herself not just wondering if he would find her but hoping that he would. That had been before she knew she'd loved him, and she hadn't known then why she had the urge to stay in his company. She understood now, and the memory along with the clueless nature that the dwarf had for it made her laugh. A real laugh. It appeared she could smile or laugh, but only when he was in her head in some way. "What?!" the dwarf demanded, and she quickly wiped the smile off her face, not wanting him to think that she was insulting him.

"She wasn't telling you about the fireflies," she explained "she was inviting you to go be with her."

"You think so," the dwarf smiled, elated at the thought that her words might be true.

She nodded, "I've had my heart broken enough to know when somebody's is reaching out," she explained willing herself not to cry again. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, feel the corners of her mouth turning down again to resume their perpetual frown. She had tried, she had reached out, and no one had caught her that time. Suddenly a loud, joyful cry erupted from the other dwarves at the table and it distracted him enough to look away from her and gave her the opportunity to collect her thoughts, her tears, and emotions and shove them back down for a few more minutes. She'd have to go soon, lock herself in the tiny room that she had and cry again. There was no way to contain it these days, but at least she was getting better at sensing the arrival of the break down they brought with them.

"Now go!" she told the dwarf as he looked back over at her. What was he waiting here for? If she was out there, then there was only one place he needed to be. "Find your love, find your hope, find your dreams" she encouraged, wishing that she had better luck doing that herself.

"I will!" he said standing, bouncing excitedly on his toes. "My name isn't Dreamy for nothing right?" he said like he was still trying to convince himself. She smirked at him, the closest thing to a genuine smile she could give at the moment. He made a step forward then turned back to her. "Wait. How do I thank you? I don't even know your name."

She smiled at his words. He was a sweet dwarf, but he was also wasting time, and she didn't much feel like being thanked. "My name is Belle," she answered "And you can thank me by going to see her." Dreamy beamed at her. "Go," she repeated, and with a last glance at the dwarves he disappeared out the door. They hadn't even noticed him go. She hoped he would find her tonight, hoped that he would get what he wanted, hoped that she hadn't just sent a good innocent soul off into the world to be devoured, just as hers had been.


	25. Second Chances

It was hard to feel sorry for yourself when there was someone yelling in your ear. In fact, it was downright unfair. She was trying her best to forget her life, to drown her sorrows in a good book, and the amount of ale that she had shouldn't have made it difficult. But the man yelling across the way was. "There's a fearsome beast ravaging a faraway land," he told the crowd gathered around him. What caught her attention was the word "beast." She had just left a man who was commonly called a beast. Was that who he was talking about? Was she close to him? Was this "ravaging" something that he was responsible for? "His eyes burn with fire," the man added. No, then. This really was an animal of some kind. It was a beast, but it wasn't her beast. She couldn't tell if she was happy about that or sad. She should probably be happy. After what happened the last time that they had spoken she should never want to see that man again. But she couldn't deny that she had felt her stomach do a hopeful flop when she heard the word.

It was a silly reaction. What did she expect would happen if it had been him they were talking about? Would she walk up to him? Tell him off? Face the beast, break the spell, and save the day?! Her heart sank at the words. No, she'd been there. She'd done the first and tried the second. All it had gotten her was an angry rejection, no home, and a lot of heartache. She'd spent countless days thinking about that day, wondering where it all went wrong, dreaming about what she could have done differently. Finally she was to the point in accepting that she couldn't do anything about the past, and it was no use torturing herself over. Funny how easy it was to believe this about others, but when she was thinking about herself it was much more difficult.

She was fine. Really, she was. The nice people at the tavern gave her a small room and a dinner for cleaning rooms during the day and the tavern in the early morning hours after everyone left. She'd made quick friends with the town librarian and in return for helping him around the shop he gave her all the books she could read and the occasional scrap of food. Bed, food, work, and books. What more could she need? She was fine.

But sometimes she found herself wondering if anyone had ever died from not being around their true love. Because as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't deny what she had seen. True loves kiss could break any curse, and hers had, ergo whether he liked it or not, wanted it or not, he was her true love. And after months of standing behind him, of feeling things inside her that she'd never felt before, after falling in love, sometimes it hurt more than the ale could numb. So he didn't want her, so he'd rather live with his power than take a chance on her, that was all well and good for him, but what about her. He had made up his mind, but that meant that she had to live with his choice as well. It simply wasn't fair! And so she had to cope. She would sit. She would read her books and drink her ale and continue to tell herself that she was fine.

And maybe if she kept telling herself that, one day she would wake up and it would be true.

"It's called the Yaoguai," the man explained, breaking her thoughts away from the man that held them. She watched him carefully, her interest suddenly sparking at the monsters name. The Yaoguai? As in the Yaoguai that she had read about? As in the subject of the book that she had recently translated for the librarian? "No man has been able to kill it. But we will!" he yelled with confidence. That description of the creature sounded about right. "There's room on our wagon, who's going to join us?" she watched as the crowd raised their hands and voices volunteering to go but judging by the crew that he was gathering she very firmly doubted they would get the results they were after. They had no idea what they were going after.

But she did.

The stray thought made her smile, made her want to laugh at her own foolishness. It was absurd really. Hadn't she learned her lesson? She couldn't save a single man, why should she think that she could save an entire village. But still, the thought of going on a new adventure instead of sitting here and feeling sorry for herself, as she dwelled on her mistakes, was tempting.

"Looking for an adventure?" She glanced up at the voice that had dared to echo her thoughts. The dwarf. The one from the other night, who hadn't known that he was in love. He stood before her now, a beautiful smile shining on his face. It was contagious and she found herself smiling as she looked at him. He certainly looked better than he had when she had last seen him. Happier. What had happened between then and now?

"Dreamy right?" she asked, trying to recall his name.

"Yes," he blushed "I came to thank you," he said setting his mug down and joining her at the table. She hadn't any idea what on earth he was thanking her for, and must have given him a curious look, as he explained: "that advice you gave me last night, it worked. Nova and I are running away together!"

She laughed with happiness as the incident triggered her memory. The girl that had been trying to tell him to meet her must have been Nova. She'd told him to go to her. Apparently it had been a fruitful endeavor. At least she had the power to connect others with their true loves. Now if only she could come up with some idea that would help her. No! She pushed the depressing words out of her mind. It would be easy to let herself feel sad at a time like this, but this wasn't about her, it was about Dreamy and Nova. She had to focus on that. "That's wonderful" she reached forward and placed her hands over his. She took a deep breath reminding herself that just because she couldn't have love didn't mean that others in the world didn't. Sometimes things did work out. Sometimes she could give good advice. She couldn't be right all the time, but after her last decision had gone so horribly wrong, it was good to remember that it wasn't her. She wasn't broken, and she could still do good things.

She glanced automatically over at the table where the man was now having the villagers of this small town sign their names to the paper for the journey. She could still do good, couldn't she? "You should sign up!" Dreamy suggested, following her gaze and reading the interest that was so obviously plastered across her face. She laughed at herself as her last "adventure" seemed to flash before her eyes. The wound was still raw, she wondered if it ever wouldn't be. That alone was enough to remind her of her newfound place in this world. She was a princess turned cleaning lady and barmaid. And her days of taming beasts were over.

She shook her head. "I've always dreamt of heroics," she explained "but I think it's safer to stick to my books" that way when something tragic happened at least it didn't hurt as much as her life did. But how was she suppose to tell a person who was about to run away with their true love that she'd been burned so badly by her own she never wanted to step outside her comfort zone again. Her final words to him replayed in her mind and she could feel every emotion she'd felt in that moment come back to her. She never wanted to feel that way again. No, her books were definitely safer. "They're the only adventures I know that have happy endings," she muttered. She wasn't going to cry. Not again. She was done wasting her tears on someone who would never care about her the same way she did about him.

"Maybe this one will have one too" Dreamy commented. He was just trying to help, and it was sweet how he was trying to return the favor. But, unless he could turn back time, what had become of her life was nothing that anyone else could fix. And as far as that adventure went, well her opinion of the men going hadn't exactly changed in the short time she'd been watching them. They had no idea what they were up against.

"I, uh, I doubt it. Last time I faced a beast it didn't end well," she hadn't meant to share it, she didn't want someone so happy to suffer through her miserable story. But she hoped that he would take the tone and words of the story to heart and realize it really wasn't something that she wanted to talk, or even think, about.

"What are you talking about?" he asked eagerly, naïvely. She was speechless. Too kind to tell him to drop it, but too withdrawn to admit anything to him. He wasn't the first person who had asked her what had happened, and he wouldn't be the last. Somehow she was going to have to get to a point where she could say something besides "let's just say I'm unlucky." She opened her mouth, hoping that something helpful would come out.

"Men!" she glanced over at the group of people surrounded by their leader "follow me!" they dawned their hats and travel gear. "The Yaoguai awaits," he said mysteriously before leading them out of the tavern.

"Get on that wagon!" Dreamy insisted. She breathed a sigh of relief that he had left their conversation behind. "Go!" he ordered. She wished he would stop. Her defenses were breaking down, and she was considering the fact that she had information they could use, that she was already well fed, and could use some new scenery. And then there was the most appealing reason. If she went she would at least have a new history. She might even wind up with a new town to explore. And maybe there when they asked her where she had come from or how she had made her way to them she could answer "I killed the Yaoguai". In her mind even saying "I was with the group that attempted to kill the Yaoguai" would be good enough. It was a better past than the one she had at present. And it was more appealing than sitting here every night. "Take a chance!" Dreamy encouraged.

What was the worst that could happen? She could die, but she was pretty sure that who she was had already died. At least this way she had the option to die a hero. How strange. In trying to liberate him of his past, she'd ended up running from her own. If she couldn't be a hero to him, then she could try to be for a poor village that had no hope, at the very least she could provide the information to help the group going now, maybe save their lives as well.

She took a deep breath, knowing the massive decision that was ahead of her. It would take courage, but if she'd mustered it once then she could generate it again. Just because he chose to be a lonely man all the rest of his life, didn't mean that she had to resign herself to that fate yet. And, ultimately, that was what convinced her that it was the right option. She could curl up in a ball and regret every decision she'd ever made ignoring the world around her until she became a person just as afraid as he was or she could live her life the way he didn't. And maybe one day, if they ever crossed paths again, he would see who she had become and then he would regret letting her get away. But she had to take a step first, before that journey could begin.

"Thank you!" she told Dreamy, quickly gathering her book and the small shoulder bag that held all she owned in this world. She felt hope suddenly budding in her chest again. It had been so long since she felt it that she almost didn't recognize the feeling. She wished she could tell Dreamy what exactly she was feeling and how grateful she was, but she didn't want to miss that wagon. It was the beginning of a new life, and she wasn't going to let it get away.

She gave him another laugh as she got up. It really was absurd, a princess off to kill the beast and save the village, but what in her life had been normal? She was nearly out the door when she heard Dreamy yell. "Wait! Belle!" she turned to see him getting out of his chair "Wait!" He was fiddling with something in his pocket. He pulled out a small cloth pouch the color of deep purple and handed it to her. "It's fairy dust," he said as she held it in her hand. "It might come in handy." Her heart sped up as she looked at the small gift sitting in her hand. Just when she was feeling like she could leave those memories behind her they came stampeding back into her mind, threatening to send angry tears into her eyes. She knew the mines were in this town, but so far she'd been able to avoid them. She wanted nothing to do with magic, not for as long as she lived.

But she was proud for keeping herself together, for just shaking her head and handing it back to him. "Oh, no, thank you, I've seen what magic does to people," it was no good for anyone and certainly not for her.

Dreamy squinted his eyes at her, judging her for her odd reaction to the substance. "You've seen what dark magic does," whether he had guessed or had been speaking to some of the rumors she was sure the villagers were spreading she couldn't be sure. For her own sake she preferred to believe he had come up with it from the look on her face. "Fairies use this for good." Good? There was good magic and dark magic in the world? She'd never even considered the possibility. But she supposed that a man called the Dark One didn't get his reputation by performing good magic. She was already about to take one chance, why not take another one, and redeem her beliefs about magic in the process. If she was going to do this she had to be willing to believe in all kinds of things, new things that she would see and experience, and the person that she could be. She was willing to open herself up to that, what harm could it do? "Now go be a hero!" Dreamy stated happily. She smiled at the possibilities ahead of her, and then barely got out a "thanks" in the middle of her excited giggle as she headed out.

It wasn't too late for second chances. And amid her excitement and hopefulness, and that layer of anger and sadness, there was a different kind of hope. A hope that maybe she wasn't the only one that would see this. She hoped that someday he would realize that it was never too late for second chances.


	26. Between Here and There

It wasn't easy convincing the men to let her go along. She was a girl, after all, with little training, no skills, and frankly the dress hadn't helped her cause. In an act, she suspected, to trick her into not coming the leader had told her that they were leaving tomorrow at first light. If she wanted to go she should be there, because they wouldn't wait if she was late. With an excited smile she'd run down the street to the library that she had been working for. Although it was night time, she found the friendly man and explained the situation to him. His warm brown eyes had watered when she told him that she wouldn't be coming back, but he'd wrapped his wrinkly hands around hers and told her that she would need something far more suitable than her current attire for an adventure like this. It killed her to admit it, since this was the only thing he'd given her that she still had. But, he was right, it would do her no good now. The dress would have to go.

He'd taken her upstairs to his sons room and he and his wife had run around piecing together what was an acceptable grouping of clothes. The pants had come from their son when he was younger. The boots, gloves, and scarf were his wife's. The top was a little more complicated. They wanted her to be warm and protected but his wife had also insisted with a gleam in her eye that a woman, pretty as she was, still needed to feel like a woman, no matter what she was doing. So they found her an undershirt, with a hood on it, then a purple bodice that the woman separated from one of her own dresses with a slash of a knife, a warm jacket and belt was added and as she stared in the mirror before her, tying her hair back and out of her face, she was almost happy to see that she didn't recognize the woman staring back at her. She looked like a hero, she just wished she could feel like one.

But there, behind her, her blue dress and tan shoes sat upon the bed, looking lonely and dull without her. She felt guilty looking at them there. Getting rid of them wasn't easy, and following her gaze the librarian's wife held the fabric. "I doubt this will last on the road," she said in her frail but kind voice.

She had to take a long swallow and deep breath before saying "you keep it." She reached behind her and removed her grandmother's necklace, placing it in her shoulder bag for safe keeping, at least she could keep something that was hers. But the old woman wouldn't agree to her request. She shook her head, saying she couldn't and that it wasn't right but she only smiled and said "keep it, sell it for your trouble, I'm sure it would fetch a good price" the words felt like a knife to her gut, but she'd said them, and now it was as it should be. Now she really was someone new.

The old lady only smiled sweetly again. "I'll keep it here, for you, for when you come back."

She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out and she found tears of relief and gratefulness fill her eyes and "thank you," was what followed instead. Whether or not she ever came back to this place, at least it would be safe. At least she'd know where it was.

The next morning it was obvious that they didn't think that she would show up, and there were many that weren't happy that she had, but she climbed aboard a wagon and opened anew the book that the librarian had shoved into her hands before she left. He'd kept the translation for himself but he'd given her the original. It didn't make a difference to her, she was just grateful. Everything she, they, would need to defeat the Yaoguai was in this book, he had essentially given them a road map to victory. And finally she was on her way to a new life.

At first it hadn't been too bad. The men looked at her with disbelief and sneers of disgust but for the most part left her alone…during the day. When the night fell, when she got a tent to herself, she saw the horrors of being the only woman among a group of men. But fortunately she learned how to deal with it. Retire early, bind the tent flaps shut, snuff out the candle, and sleep with one eye open.

But as time wore on, it got easier. Apparently, some of the men had missed the part about having to travel to a "far away land." Though they had once started with about thirty men, horses and wagons galore, and enough supplies for everyone soon they were down to a man riding on horseback and four of them on the back of their last wagon drawn by two horses. The few men that were left were harmless, but as the number dropped they'd gotten more verbal, taunting and teasing her. They never hurt her or threatened her physically, but she'd heard a conversation through the fabric of her tent while they were talking by the fire last night, one that had put her on guard.

They were strained and stressed and like anyone they began to look for the cause, whether or not one existed. She was an easy target. They had decided that all the misfortune they'd encountered so far was her fault. They thought they would have moved faster, been abandoned by less of their companions, even have one more tent, if only they hadn't been cursed to have a woman with them. She'd hoped to be a hero, but instead, they'd made her out to be a nuisance, and she'd listened sadly as they come up with a plan, preparing herself for what would come, and making plans for when it did. She knew that they were looking for a busy village, somewhere to leave her, lose her in the crowd, so that she wouldn't cause problems but also wouldn't leave a black mark on their conscious for abandoning her in the middle of nowhere. It was fair to them, it was unimaginable for her.

But she refused to give up. As a result she'd been keeping her nose in the book, trying to find something, anything, that would convince them that she was useful, that she would be helpful when they arrived. Somehow this trip had become more important to her than she'd ever imagined, and the thought of being left in the country, rejected again, made her stomach turn. Until they abandoned her, she was going to work as hard as she could to prove herself. Maybe she would prove to herself that she could be this person as well.

"What's that!" asked the man named Alistair. He was the one that had recruited them all in the first place, and he'd been the one that seemed to enjoy taunting her the most. He thought of himself as a leader, and his voice had been loudest as they'd plotted against her. As much as she knew she should just ignore him, not add another reason to get rid of her, she found the answer automatically falling from her lips. She wouldn't just roll over and be quiet and calm for them. She just couldn't be something she wasn't.

"Ah, a book!" She answered, slightly annoyed with the man. She didn't particularly like him, but she couldn't dislike him entirely either. He was a lot like Gaston and reminded her of what it might be like to have an irritating little brother. But she had a lot of experience dealing with people like that. She knew how to fight fire with fire. "I trust you've seen one before," she asked, looking at him with false innocence. Her words had been carefully chosen, but it was still enough of an insult that it reminded him she wasn't an easy target and he wasn't the worst thing she'd ever come across. Her point made, she turned back to the book to translate the next set of glyphs before her.

"You expect to face the fiercest creature in the land with a book," Alistair continued to tease her.

Claude chimed in too, adding "maybe she means to bore it to death." The others erupted in laughter.

They were wrong about that. The Yaoguai was not the fiercest creature in the land. She'd already faced that and lived to tell the tale, even if it was only a half life. She forced the thought away and told herself not to think about him. She should just keep translating, they laughed now, but it was her they'd be thanking when they knew how much they needed her and this book. They would regret ever considering getting rid of her.

"It will tell us how to find the Yaoguai" she shouted over their laughter. It silenced them and they turned so they could hear her. She was sick of being seen as useless. It amazed her how unintelligent these men were. They could be experts in swordsmanship and hunting but it wouldn't do any good if they didn't know where the creature was in the first place. Didn't they see that?!

She turned back to the book. But instead of leaving her alone Alistair suddenly tore it from her hands. She gritted her teeth together and she looked straight ahead, trying to control her temper, to remember that yelling at them wouldn't help anything, it would only get her kicked off the wagon was wrong. He was worse than Gaston. At least he had never grabbed at her possessions and mocked her.

"These are just scribbles," Alistair pointed out, reminding her of that long ago time when they were children and Gaston had asked her how she could read when there were no pictures. Her anger flared again at his ignorance. Then again, maybe it would be better if this was a task she could do by herself. At least she wouldn't have to deal with them or their behavior all day long.

She grabbed the book back from him. "It's called another language," and this time she found herself hoping he was insulted. Her temper was wearing thin but after a glimpse back she realized he was staring at her with some interest. Finally she'd gotten him to see reason "and one that I know how to translate," she added turning back to the so called scribbles, realizing she had stumbled upon an important section and as soon as she translated it she would know exactly where to find the creature. "Huh!" she said drawing Alistair in further. She wished she didn't need them to slay the beast for her, because with this information she felt like she could go after it on her own. But it was a silly idea. She would die, surely. She'd never handled a sword and the small dagger she'd gotten from the supplies wouldn't be enough…would it?

"What?" he asked, looking over her shoulder distracting her from her courageous dreams of grandeur.

She closed the book and set it in her lap. "Nothing, just scribbles," she answered purposefully getting on his nerves and giving him a taste of his own medicine.

It appeared to have worked, "We're here to protect the land girl," he said in a chastising voice, the anger for her clear in his voice at the world "girl". She wanted to correct him, to tell him that she'd lived already more than most women her age ever would in a lifetime. But she kept the thought to herself. She was not a girl. She was a young woman capable of more than what any of the men in her life, past or present, thought. Suddenly her earlier thoughts didn't seem so ridiculous. What was a beast compared to what she'd already faced? She could do this. She could be a hero. "That book tells us where to go you shall share it with us," Alistair insisted.

She looked back at him proudly. She'd arrived at where she wanted to-convincing him that she had important information. Only suddenly she was wondering if this was where she really wanted to be after all. And there was something else. She didn't like the look on Alistairs face. It told her that she had overstepped, and she had finally over stayed her welcome. A small family farm caught her eye and she could see him glance quickly over to it as well. To him it was much more than a family farm, it was their ticket to good fortune. It wouldn't be as smooth as they'd hoped, but at least they wouldn't leave her alone. Her time was up, it was written plain as day on his face. If not now then it would be, as soon as she gave up that information. And if she refused then it would definitely be sooner rather than later, then her heroic dreams would be over before they ever really got started.

She looked at the path unfurling behind the wagon. Maybe there was a third option. They were stronger, and could track better. It was silly. They would beat her there before she even figured out where she was. But, maybe if she chose her words a little more carefully…She turned the sentence she'd just translated over in her head again and again. It would be a shame if she mistranslated one of the symbols…for them at least. But it might actually give her the time she needed to get ahead of them, to find the Yaoguai on her own and figure out a way to kill it herself. She sighed, her mind made up, "it says we'll find the Yaoguai by the lake," she offered, loud enough so that they could all hear her instructions clearly.

"The lake you say," Alistair verified with interest.

"Yes," she set the book down beside her, trying to figure out her next move, the next step to enact this plan that she had forming in her mind.

"You heard her Claude, we're going to the lake!" she heard Alistair call over his shoulder.

Suddenly she felt a boot at her back and the cart beneath her vanished as she hit ground with an unprepared thud. She watched them go on without her. She had known they were going to leave her but she hadn't expected for them not even to stop the cart! Or that they'd take her belongings with them. "Wait!" she called as they moved on. That book was her only chance, she needed it back.

As if reading her thoughts Alistair picked up the book and tossed it into the air calling "don't forget your book," in a final taunting voice.

It landed beside her and she could hear them laugh as she reached out to grab the important object. With relief she stood up again and began brushing herself off, the rest she could bear to part with, but so long as she had this book, and the dust Dreamy had given her, she wasn't without hope. Nevertheless she opened the book and found the passage that she had been examining only moments ago. Nervously she double checked the glyphs just to make sure that she had read them correctly. She smiled to herself when she saw that she had. "Enjoy the lake!" she called after them, making a final jest of her own, before looking back at the glyphs. "The Yaoguai prefers mountain habitats to all others" she smiled looking at the picture of a dark cave etched into the paper. They'd figure it out eventually, she had only bought herself time and nothing more. She'd have to hope that there would be courage that she could pick up between here and there.


	27. Two Woman, a Sword, and a Book

Fortunately there had been a family of farmers where the caravan had dumped her, and they were able to give her the directions that she needed. Once she had a general idea of where she was going, she was able to hike into the mountains and with the help of the book in her hand track the beast all afternoon. Now she stood outside a cave, which, if she was reading the glyphs correctly, was either a place where the Yaoguai lived now or had lived. And that wasn't all that the book had told her. It pointed out a particular weakness that the creature had, a way to destroy the beast.

"The Yaoguai hibernates by day and hunts by night," she read aloud one more time, making sure the words were actually there and not an invention of her mind. She closed her book and looked at the cave before her. With a deep sigh she tried to think about what to do next, how to approach this. This beast wasn't like the last one that she'd fought...

She shook her head, telling herself once again that she couldn't think about him, that she wouldn't! He'd had his chance and hadn't taken it, she wasn't going to dwell on it. Here and now, she needed all her attention to be on that cave and the beast that was before her.

"Please be asleep," she muttered looking into the dark cave. She couldn't see anything. But was it her imagination or was there a deep rhythmic breathing coming from inside? She took a few timid steps forward and pulled the dagger from the leather sheath at her side. She wished she had a sword but if the creature was asleep then she wouldn't need anything grandiose, she just needed to get the job done. Her heart hammered harder against her chest with every step as she moved closer and closer and…

Snap!

A branch broke beneath her boot. In a moment of panic she listened carefully hoping that it had only appeared louder to her because she was nervous and scared. But then a loud roar echoed from within the dark cavern ahead of her. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it might not be beating any more at all. Now she was in trouble! She ran, to nowhere in particular her legs just getting the message to get out alive while her brain was still working on what to do next. She had to get away from here, she had to find shelter, somewhere the creature wouldn't find her. But as she glanced behind her she saw a giant dog-like animal race out of the cave with long talons and massive teeth bounding after her. And those weren't even its most terrifying features. For her, the mane of fire was the most startling thing of all. Even when the book had described the beast to her in perfect detail she hadn't been prepared for actually seeing it in the flesh.

It distracted her from looking forward and before she knew what had happened she tripped and landed flat on her belly. The world was suddenly too fast and too still at the same time. She heard the monster roar from somewhere close behind her and just as she was expecting her death to come it was was suddenly in front of her, teeth bared flames hot against her skin, a threatened and angry roar deafening her ears. This was it, this was the end!

Suddenly an arrow whizzed by the creature coming from out of nowhere, it scared her almost as much as the beast did. But she never took her eyes off the Yaoguai. It took off, but instead of back in the direction it came from, it ran frightened into the woods, away from its hiding place. She fought to hold back terrified and grateful tears knowing that she was probably the luckiest person in the world right now. She should have been dead, but there she was alive and well. Terrified, perhaps, but still breathing, heart still pounding, and feeling like the stupidest girl on the face of the planet.

She had thought that if she could face Rumpelstiltskin then she wouldn't fear anything else in the world. She was wrong yet again. She let the wave of panic wash over her and then heard footsteps. Something or someone was with her in the woods approaching her. In her panic she had nearly forgotten the arrow that had saved her life; someone had to have fired it! Was it him, had he come to save her? Or had the men in the caravan finally caught up with her? She would hate to think of their taunts now if they had to save her from her own stupid belief she could ever do this on her own. She wasn't a warrior, she was a Princess turned maid with grand visions of heroism and true love. And she never should have started this journey in the first place. She should have stayed right where she had been in that inn reading books by day and drinking at night. That would have been much safer.

She risked a glance and turned back to see her savior running over to her. To her delight she realized it was neither him nor them. She couldn't tell who it was. The warrior wore a mask over his face, clunky official looking leather armor, and a red cape concealing a sword, knife, and bow and arrow. And those were just the weapons she could see! A man like this probably had more hidden elsewhere. She stood up quickly, just because this man had saved her life didn't mean that he was a friend, and she didn't want to be defenseless against two dangers in this wood. But as she turned back to face her hero a strange sight met her eyes. The person had removed their mask and it wasn't a man at all. It was a girl, a woman, with beautiful olive skin and long black hair tied back so it stayed out of her way, the color and design of her clothes let on that she was one of the people native to this part of the world.

The girl politely offered her a hand to help steady her and she took it gratefully before looking down at herself and brushing her clothing free of the soil that was on them. She had to try not to stare in shock. She hadn't been prepared to meet another woman, much less one that carried a sword. But no matter who the stranger was or her gender it didn't matter. She was alive. And that was the important thing. "However can I thank you!" she said gratefully, the girl stared back at her looking just as surprised as she did at the person she had saved, maybe she wasn't expecting a woman either. "You saved my life," she added, stating the obvious.

"And you ruined my hunt," the woman responded, a flash of anger in her look of sympathy and bewilderment. "It took me weeks to track the Yaoguai here."

She grabbed her book, a small moment of excitement passing through her. The words caught her attention. So they had a common interest. She was hunting the Yaoguai too. As she looked the woman up and down taking in once again the weapons the official armor she was wearing, a thought crossed her mind. What did she need of men who would tease her maliciously all day long and make hasty threats and rude jokes at night? But another woman, one that knew how to use a sword, now that was something that could work to her advantage. And maybe someone who could read ancient "scribbles", as Alistair had called them, was someone who could be of benefit to this woman as well. "I, uh," she took a calming breath, her voice now too low "I found it in a day," she muttered brushing the earth off the book.

The woman looked her up and down her eyes looking to the sheath at her hip and resting on the book in her hands "you had luck on your side" she concluded confidently, but deep down she wondered if the woman wasn't just fishing for information like Alistair had. Even if she was, she'd rather tell this woman her secrets than the band of ignorant boys she'd been with.

"No, not luck," she corrected looking down at the small informant in her hands, did the woman know what it was? "It was this," the stranger looked at the book with confusion but also interest. That was exactly what she wanted. It was a hunch, but she could feel it, she was confident. Together they would make a great team, she just knew it, they were two sides of the same coin "I could, uh, I can help you find it again," she offered boldly. They could do this! They could both be heroes. Decorated as she appeared to be she had been after the Yaoguai too, and she thought that maybe here, even with her great skills, she was still just a woman. Maybe she wanted to be more than her gender too?

But as quickly as the words were out of her mouth the woman lifted her head to look her in the eye "You've done enough damage already" she spat back at her, the interest disappearing from her eyes. Then again maybe she would be exactly like the men on the caravan had been. She took a few steps forward, "if you really want to help," she offered, her voice full of spite and anger "stay out of my way." And with that she walked away and ran quickly into the woods after the Yaoguai, disappearing into the fog.

She felt a deep surge of disappointment at the words. "When two people both have something the other wants a deal can always be struck!" his playful voice filled her head, whether she wanted it too or not. She'd heard him repeat it dozens of times while she was listening to him make his precious deals. By his theory this transaction should have gone smoothly. So what had she done wrong? Maybe bragging about how fast she'd been able to locate a creature it had taken the girl a week to hunt down wasn't the best way to begin?

She looked around her for a moment, her opportunity gone. She needed to leave. She was alone, defenseless against an angry Yaoguai running lose in the woods. She searched the woods around her picking up her dagger from where it had dropped to the ground in her sprint. She'd seen a town not far from here on her hike; maybe she could rustle up some food, get some water, and try to figure out another way to kill the beast on her own. This would work out, she had to believe that it would, because if she didn't have the courage to face this beast, what did she have?


	28. A Deal Can Always Be Struck

She'd gotten into the little village with no problems. And now that she was here the only thing she really wanted after her long and useless trek through the forest was a drink of water. She hadn't thought to take any with her when she had left that family after the caravan had abandoned her. With her throat dry and parched, she regretted that decision. As soon as she'd spotted the well she heaved a sigh and marched straight over to it as fast as she could while still trying not to look desperate. Eagerly she lowered the bucket and pulled back the weight of glorious, wet, cool water. It was almost in her hands when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and one at her leg and before she had time to react she had been lifted off her feet and was staring down the long tunnel of the well.

She gave a shriek and tried to find a place, a notch, a ledge, any where she could put her hands so that she didn't fall down and meet a very unsatisfying death. But the well was too large and she couldn't stabilize herself. She tried to look behind her but couldn't clearly see the face of the man holding her life in the balance. Who was doing this to her? Why would anyone want to hurt her?

"The Yaoguai wasn't at the lake," said the angry voice of Alistair. Her heart pounded against her chest and from the corner of her eye she turned to see him standing by her side, or rather the side of the man holding her over the well.

Yes, they had reason to be angry at her, but not reason enough to kill her. Unfortunately she didn't think they saw it that way it right now. She wanted to be away from them, to run, but that meant she had to get both feet on the ground first, and she didn't think they would agree to release her that easily. She took a deep breath, she was beginning to feel light-headed. "I'm sorry, I must, I must have misread that one" she said, coming up with the first thing that popped into her head. Telling them she had led them astray on purpose was not an option, not in her current predicament. It might just be the piece of information they were looking for to toss her to her death. It must be nice to have strength, instead of a useless physical trait like beauty, or even the ability to translate different languages. She'd trade both of those for strength in a heartbeat right now.

"Mmm," Alistair leaned down next to her casually, like they were having a polite conversation at a tavern. "Do you want to know what I think happened? I think you sent us in the wrong direction on purpose," she glanced over at him, his face lined with curious anger. She hadn't thought that he'd be able to put two and two together; Gaston wouldn't have been able to. Maybe she couldn't read people as well as she thought she could. She didn't know what to say, what to offer, or beg for to get them to release her. But she didn't have to.

Just as she was beginning to think that was going to pass out from the headache building in her skull, a rope wrapped itself around Alistair's neck and he crashed to the ground, out of sight. Behind him she could just make out the same mysterious woman that she had met in the forest; the one who had saved her earlier. Had she followed her here? But she had no time to ask questions, the man who had been holding her, Claude as it turned out, put her down and she had to grab the well to keep from toppling over as the woman advanced on the men. "Let her go," the woman demanded, and although she couldn't see anymore than her eyes through her helmet, it sounded like she had her teeth clenched.

"This isn't your fight soldier!" Alistair called. Her blurring vision was starting to clear and she could see him there, still on his hands and knees trying to recover from whatever it was she'd thrown at him. She knew that she had more weapons than what she had seen.

But the woman didn't stop her threatening advance. Suddenly Claude pulled out his own sharp dagger. The woman looked at it with interest but not with fear. He moved to attack her, once, twice, several times, but each and every time she blocked his offenses not even needing to pull out her own sword. She made the trained mercenary look like a child. Finally she wrestled him to the ground with enough force to make her helmet fly off her head. "Wait!" Claude exclaimed, looking at her shocked. "You're a…" but she punched him in the face with so much force his skull cracked against the stone beneath him.

"Yeah, I know!" she replied angrily as the man clutched his head painfully. She stood and turned drawing her own sword, daring someone to attack her, to defend the men. Not surprisingly, no one did. If she'd done that much with her bare hands no one wanted to see what she could do with a blade. "Go!" she ordered, the pair of foolish men quickly got to their feet and left without another word. When they were well on their way she felt another wave of gratitude wash over her. The woman didn't have to help her, didn't have to save her, and yet she had. Twice in the same day! And she was amazing, every bit the warrior that she looked. It was a shame that the woman didn't want her help. They really would have made an excellent team against the Yaoguai.

"I um, didn't expect to see you again," she commented as the woman sheathed the unused sword. She glanced over once again to the men who were looking smaller and smaller with every step they took. She was alive and they were gone, what more could she ask for? She turned back to the woman. "Thank you," she said for the second time that day. And for a moment she wondered if she would forever be thanking people for saving her life, instead of doing it for others, or herself.

The woman stared off into the distance, watching the shrinking forms of the men like she was making sure they were really leaving as she had ordered. "I had to put up with brutes like them when I served in the emperors army," she said with a certain sense of pride, correcting her posture with a shoulder roll and a proud smile. She deserved it. It couldn't have been easy for a woman to serve in the army. She couldn't help but admire the woman, she knew what she wanted and she went after it. Unlike her. She knew what she wanted. She just had no idea how to get it when she was met by obstacle after obstacle. Not to mention the fact that what she wanted most in the world didn't want her back. "Fools, who think we have no business holding a sword," she added, putting a strange emphasis on the "we". "I only wish there was someone there to stand up for me," she admitted. She was about to ask what had happened to her when no one had come to her aid but she was suddenly distracted by something and looked downward. She gave a strange sigh and reached between her boot and leg. Her gloved hand came away wet. Blood!

"You're, uh, you're bleeding," she was surprised, she didn't think Claude had been able to lay a hand on her, much less a blade, had she missed it? Or perhaps it was an old injury? She felt a stab of guilt as she looked at the sticky substance. No matter how she had gotten it, it was the result of her successful attempts to protect her. The injury was her fault.

But the woman didn't seem to take much notice. "I'll survive," she said, straightening and paying the injury no mind. She turned her attention skyward and wiped her hand against her belt. "The sun should be setting soon," she commented "we need to move out," she said in an official tone, and turned quickly on her heel and to gather up her helmet.

"What, what do you mean 'we'" she asked, trying not to get her hopes up. Had she really said what she thought that she'd said? Or was her mind still recovering from the rush of blood to the head. Was she taking her up on her offer then? Did she really want them to work together to kill the Yaoguai? Or was she referring to someone else.

The woman turned back to her "You tracked the Yaoguai in a matter of hours," she explained "it took me weeks! You track the beast, and I'll kill it."

Hope filtered through her frayed nerves. Was this really happening? Was she really getting her wish? What had caused this sudden change of mind in her? Hadn't she saved her twice in one day, didn't she consider her useless? "When two people both have something the other wants a deal can always be struck," she pushed the thoughts and his voice from her head, why was she over thinking this! The woman had turned her down once, it was best to take her up on the offer before it passed by again. "I'd be honored to help you," she said trying to straighten her shoulders and look more like a strong and capable woman instead of the feeble broken-hearted one she felt like nowadays. Maybe this would bring some sense of meaning back into her life.

She took hold of the book that had been resting on the well and together the two women filled skins of water and an old man at a cart offered them some provisions free of charge, from the smile that passed between the two of them she wondered if they knew each other. If this was her village it would explain the man, her protective instinct for everyone, and why no one dared to help the men or attack her.

And then, while her mind was still processing everything that had happened, they were off, heading back into the forest she'd come from. "I'm Belle, by the way," she said.

"Mulan," she answered in a friendly tone, but still trying to keep the pace up despite her leg injury. "So, where do we go from here?" she asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly. She liked this woman, she had a goal and she was focused on it. So much so that there was no room for anything outside of catching the Yaoguai, not even time for proper introductions. She liked that. With purpose, she opened the book in her hand with a smile, then put her nose back into it and began figuring out their next move.


	29. History Can Repeat Itself

"It's just ahead" she said leading Mulan down a hill, hoping she wouldn't trip over another rock or stick in the dark night. It had taken them longer to get here than expected, but now that they were here, now that they'd managed to track the beast again she didn't want anything to hinder them anymore. Who knew what damage the creature would do with another night of freedom? And, to be honest, she was looking forward to returning to the small village, but not because they would be heroes, that recognition would come later. For now all she wanted from the town was a hardy meal and a nice soft bed to sleep in. At the moment everything else in the world suddenly paled in comparison to food and sleep.

"That book served you well" Mulan commented as they came upon the ridge. They stared down and a terrible sight met their eyes. They were too late. Through a clearing in the trees they could see down to a field below. The Yaoguai had set fire to it. It was awake, and bound to cause terror in the neighboring village and trouble for anyone stupid enough to challenge the beast when it was fully rested. As much as they might want to it just wouldn't be safe to go after it now.

Suddenly Mulan heaved an irritated sigh and she turned just in time to see her reach down into her boot. She held her foot at an odd angle, like putting her full weight on it was painful. She'd been trying to hide it since they started but she had noticed her slowing as she had taken the lead instead and could feel the trembling of her leg as she rested her hand on her knee trying to get a glimpse of the injury. "Mulan, your legs getting worse," she insisted. She wished she knew how to help, but the only thing she knew about injuries was that they needed plenty of rest. But the soldier wouldn't rest, she couldn't, it seemed. Instead she only stood tall again and looked down at the fire in the field with a determined look on her face.

"I have to protect my village," she said with a confident nod as the helmet clattered to the ground. Mulan took a few steps down the hill, a faithful warrior marching into battle. But then she fell. She reached out and caught her before she could hit the ground, but she knew that the leg couldn't support her weight anymore. Minds were strong and confident, bodies, however, could fail at the most inconvenient times.

"You can't even walk," she told her, hoping the stubborn woman would see reason. It wasn't safe to go after the beast while it was awake, going after it while it was awake and she was injured was so insane it was a suicide mission. The village needed her to save them, but if she was killed because she had been too weak to attack the monster then it was of no help to anybody. "How are you going to kill the Yaoguai?"

After a few moments of silence Mulan looked up "I'm not," she muttered, disappointment in her voice. She felt sorry for her, she did, but this wasn't the end. They would still kill the Yaoguai, they would just have to postpone it for a few days. They could wait until her leg was better, then track it down one day at first night and slay it during the day as the creature slept. It was a good plan. She was ready to turn around, try to find somewhere safe to spend the night before going back to the village tomorrow to tend to Mulan's wound. But the girl onlyturned and looked at her "You are!" she declared, like it was obvious, but her stomach gave a nervous fearful flop. Was she suggesting what she thought she was?

"Me?" She was crazy. That was the only explanation for it. Or Claude had hit her head too and not just injured her leg! She was the brain of this team not the brawn. She was no soldier, she didn't even want to try to kill the Yaoguai during the night. She'd been too scared. All she had managed was to try and sneak up on it in its sleep! "I'm, I'm," she stuttered trying to find her words as Mulan gained her footing and stood up to full height "I'm not a soldier," she pointed out to her. But Mulan shook her head at her protests.

"You have good instincts. You tracked that beast faster than I ever could."

"Tracking it and killing it are not the same thing," she pointed out to her. They were two very distinct, very different, things. One she could do. The other….She glanced down at the fire in the field. No, she really couldn't do what she was suggesting.

Mulan swallowed and looked down at her from her spot on the hill "There was once a time when people didn't think that I had what it took, but I proved them wrong" she explained as seriously as if she was talking about death. Then again maybe she was…hers.

But then, there was an interesting story there. How did a woman become part of the emperor's army? Certainly that hadn't been something that was just handed to her. And she had mentioned something about the men giving her hard time when she served. And yet she must have succeeded. And then some. It was her out here after all, protecting her village, guarding her people. Where were all those so called brutes now?

"How?" she asked eagerly, wondering how she had managed to convince them otherwise, but also how she had managed to find a place that was perfect for her. She was born to be a soldier, she could just tell. It was something that gave Mulan purpose in life. Right now, she would try anything to have a purpose again, but she couldn't feel that purpose if she was dead? Was there another way that she hadn't considered? Was there a way to convince the world that she was capable of doing what they didn't think she was? Whether it was killing a Yaoguai, or convincing a man that she had the ability to love him, she wanted to show people that she had what it took.

"By showing them that I had the warrior spirit," she answered "once I found something worth fighting for I fought for it with everything that I had, I never gave up." She didn't know what it was that had happened in this girl's past, but she wished she had her bravery. Belle had found something wonderful that few people in the entire world would ever be lucky enough to possess. And instead of fighting for it, she'd run. Now she was trying to fill the emptiness that choice had created by fighting for something she wasn't entirely sure she was willing to give her life up for at the end of the day. Her search for a purpose had backfired. She couldn't rewrite who she was on a whim. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a warrior, or a princess, or a barmaid. At the end of the day she was still just a caretaker. Whether he liked it or not, she was still his true love.

"Belle," Mulan whispered, carrying her thoughts away from the castle her heart still seemed to reside in. "The fate of my village depends on you," she whispered, reminding her that if she let the Yaoguai go until morning came and it rested again, or until Mulan was healthy enough to defeat it, then lives would be at risk.

Scared as she was, as lacking in bravery that she was, she couldn't let that happen. She'd saved her village once, which was all that Mulan wanted to do. She could relate to that, in fact thinking of it that way somehow made it easier. Saving villages was something she was good at, it might not be her purpose in life, but she'd done it once, maybe she would get lucky and do it again. Seeing her defenses falling Mulan reached to her belt and held the sword out for her. "Don't be afraid," Mulan told her, and she found her arm reaching out automatically to take the sword from her.

"I'm not," she answered. And she was shocked to find that it was the truth. She wasn't afraid of giving up her life to save the village. She'd already done that once, and that time the beast had threatened to kill everything that she was and everything that she held dear. She hadn't survived that time. So what if she didn't survive this time? At least she would go down fighting. At least she would make a sacrifice that would be remembered.

She handed her book over to her, and before her courage ebbed Mulan pointed out a place by the ridge and told her to meet her there after it was done, she would light a fire for her to find it. She nodded and with a final "Go, now! Hurry, before it's too late," she marched off down the hill, preparing once again to face a beast. It couldn't be worse than the last time.


	30. Becoming a Different Person

She wasn't sure how she had gotten here: watching the Yaoguai breathe fire into the field around her. It hadn't noticed her there yet, but it was only a matter of time before it spotted her and she'd be staring the deadly creature down yet again. The last time this had happened it wouldn't have ended well if it wasn't for Mulan and yet here she was on her own, no one to save her but herself. She bounced anxiously on her toes, trying to distract herself, trying not to think about the reasons why she shouldn't be here and focus on the reasons she should be. Squaring her shoulders she looked at the beast before her.

If this was going to happen, she may as well get it over with. If she survived she'd be the hero she always dreamed about, and she wondered what Rumpelstiltskin would think when he found out what she'd done. Would he be angry she'd done something so risky? Happy that she'd done what she'd always dreamed of? Or maybe he just would refuse to hear the news and not care? And then there was the polar opposite: what if she died? Well then she'd never feel the pain of a broken heart again, but how would he feel when he found out. Probably he would be thankful, relieved even. Sometimes she couldn't believe he'd released her into the world knowing the little about him that she did. She was a potential threat he'd let loose into the world. But she doubted if he knew that anything he'd told her she would take to the grave. His secrets, his actions, his heat, all would die with her. And knowing him, he'd think that was a good thing.

She took a deep breath again, clearing her head. She couldn't let anything distract her, not even thoughts of him. She needed to stay focused on the task at hand. It was now or never. "Here! Over here!" she called waving her arms over her head. The beast looked over at her, targeting her, locking in on her. Well she had its attention at least, now she just had to survive the next few minutes.

She ran, fast as she could, darting toward Mulan's town. At least there would be places to hide there if she needed them for defense. She could hear the Yaoguai pounding behind her the entire way. She focused on her breathing, on the pounding of her heart, anything but the terror rising in her belly. She ran down the alley and into the town square. It was empty, completely devoid of all the people and the life that it had been filled with earlier. They were hiding. They had probably locked themselves away in their homes once they had seen how close the creature actually was to their village. It was a shame because she felt like she could really use the help.

She ran across the square and stopped at a tower of pipes, used for water, blocking her way. She looked behind her, the Yaoguai rounded the corner, the fiery mane lighting the dark alley she had just run down. Now it starred her down, looking at her like she would be only too easy to kill. But she wasn't going to go down without a fight and she pulled the heavy sword from her belt. It was a useless action, she couldn't think of what to do with a sword, she'd never even held one before. And she needed something more than an empty gesture of defiance if she wanted to survive. There had to be something, anything, she'd read that book cover to cover something in there had to be helpful to her now! The Yaoguai stalked slowly toward her, his fiery red eyes focused on her…

That was it. Fire!

The water behind her!

She felt a tug start on her mouth and realized she was smiling with pride. Maybe she stood a chance at surviving the day. She saw the creature lunge to pounce on her and in the blink of an eye she spun around hitting the pipe as hard as she could with the blade.

Water poured out and hit the beast full force. With a sizzle and hiss the creatures mane went out in a puff of smoke and it lay on the ground before her, weak, injured, an easy target. She should be able to kill it easily. A sword to the heart and it would be done. But then she watched it struggle. The blaze in its eyes was extinguished and replaced with fear. Something stirred in her chest and she couldn't help but feel sorry for the animal. It was causing terror, true, but did that really mean it had to die by her hand. It would be too weak to hurt anyone now. Why couldn't she just let it go? Mulan could come back for it later.

The creature gave a groan of anguish and suffering. She was confused. She didn't know what to do. Free it, or kill it. She wanted to be a hero but not the kind of hero that killed to get recognition. That wasn't who she was. And if she was going to sacrifice who she was for someone that she wasn't sure she should be that seemed a step backwards to her. She wanted to be a hero based on who she was. Anything else would just be a lie.

What was the answer?

But then something caught her attention. As she watched the creature, she noticed it doing something unnatural for an injured animal. It was swiping its claw across the stones, but there was a pattern to its motions. The claw was leaving black marks in its place, symbols. And they weren't random or accidental. They were clear and full of purpose. "You're, you're writing something," she observed with confusion. No this was defiantly not normal animal behavior, and she couldn't remember anything in the book telling her that the Yaoguai could read or write. So, how had it learned to do this? And what exactly was it writing anyway? She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out what it was trying to tell her. "Tsuea," she muttered coming up with the word that matched the characters. "Save me," she translated, astonished.

The beast looked at her, like it understood what she had said. The look begged her for something. Mercy? Favor? Help. "You need help," she sheathed her sword; she didn't need it. But she did need something else. She didn't think that she could trust Rumpelstiltskin to fix this for her, even if she could figure out a way to get the beast safely back to his castle. And anyway she didn't trust his magic. Dark magic, as the dwarf had called it, had let her down more than its fair share. But good magic, like the kind he'd given her, the magic she carried with her now, that might be exactly what was needed.

She pulled the pouch from her belt, thankful that she had known to keep it on her persons at all times and it hadn't disappeared with the caravan. Pulling on the fabric she opened it up, peering at the glittery substance inside. "Let's, uh, let's give this a try, shall we?" She didn't know how much to use, how much it would take to help him, although with as big as the creature was she figured that more was better than less. Hoping her plan wouldn't backfire, and reignite the fiery mane, she upended the bag and poured the glowing purple over the Yaoguai's body. As she watched, it was suddenly enveloped in thick purple smoke, and she lost sight of him as it drifted upward. She stood back, prepared to run if she had to. But when the smoke cleared, she saw not the Yaoguai on the ground but a man, drenched from the water she'd poured over him. He coughed and sputtered as he pushed himself back and stared at his hands like he couldn't believe he was human. He wasn't the only one. He was a man. The Yaoguai had been a person all along! No wonder he needed help!

"The curse," he looked up at her, thankfulness and relief written all over his face "you broke it".

She had? Really? It took a moment, but finally everything seemed to click into place, and the words sunk into her. She'd broken a beast's curse?! She had done it! She'd saved another village and turned a beast into a man again. And she didn't have to forfeit herself to do it either! The words were ones that she wanted to hear so badly. But then why didn't they make her feel whole again?

She shook her head slightly, there was a man before her who needed help, not her own disappointed reflections on an empty life. She reached down and helped the man to his feet, a million questions racing through her mind. "Someone, someone did this to you?" she asked nervously, hoping that his name wouldn't echo from the man's mouth. She didn't know if she could handle that right now, but even she had to admit, something like this screamed Rumpelstiltskin.

The man nodded as he stood straight and tall again "Maleficent," he breathed, a name she, thankfully, did not know. "An evil sorceress in my kingdom, determined to do everything in her power to keep me away from Aurora, my true love," he explained with a wistful, but confident, sigh. It must be nice to be so sure about true love. "So she exiled me to this land, and turned me into a monster," he continued "I tried to warn the villagers, but no one understood what I really was," he gave a little laugh and looked her up and down "except you!"

She smiled at him, there would be a happy ending to his story after all. She had done that, all because she hadn't given in, because she'd fought for something others would have called her crazy for. And it had been something worth fighting for after all. Just not the right thing for her. "Well, you're not the first beast I've faced," she muttered, but instead of chasing his image from her mind she allowed it to stay. To fill her up, and remind her of that feeling she'd had when she'd been with him and everything had been good between them. Now that was a feeling worth fighting for.

"I am forever, in your debt, please," Phillip continued, nursing an injury on his chest "tell me how I might repay you."

Rumple's face fled from her mind and the thought of Mulan also wounded and alone in the woods brought her back to reality. "My friend's hurt," she blurted out "she needs a doctor," she watched him hold his side painfully and picked up on the cue with ease "as do you. Help me bring her back to the village," she requested.

"It will be my honor," he responded formally "Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Phillip," he said managing a small bow of respect to her. She should have figured, all that was missing to his story was for him to have been a Prince. In her days at the castle she had heard of Prince Phillip and his family but never had she actually met them. They lived to far away and their kingdoms didn't often have reason to communicate with each other. "Belle," she responded fighting the old habit to introduce herself as "princess" and give the polite curtsy she'd been brought up to give her whole life around royalty.

She didn't waste time, she led him out of the village and back down the alley as fast as she could move with him and a sword tied to her belt. He didn't seem to recognize her name, or her true identity. Why would he? She wasn't that person anymore, the one he'd seen when he first arrived at her father's palace. She was a different person, a different breed. Princesses didn't fight monsters and break curses. They didn't read books and sit in on war council meetings with interest. And they definitely didn't dream about going back into the clutches of danger to have their hearts broken all over again.

Yes, she was different now.


	31. A Mind Made Up

She trekked up the mountain with Phillip to the place where Mulan had told her that they would meet. She didn't know anything about medicine. She'd read hundreds of books and not one of them could help her with Phillip or Mulan. He didn't appear to be badly injured, but it was enough that she could see him wince on occasion when he turned the wrong way or the hill got too steep. They were nearly there when she saw him do it out of the corner of her eye yet again. It made her nervous, being in the presence of someone who needed help but being unable to provide that help. First thing she was going to do when she got back was ransack her library for a book on medicine or health so that this would never happen again…

She stopped dead in her tracks.

When she got back?

The thought chased her breath out of her lungs. When had she decided that she was going back? She couldn't be sure. She was certain that when she had left Mulan she was determined not to go back to that castle ever again. If he didn't want her then it was his loss. But it wasn't, not really, it was her loss as well. That ache that she felt, the sorrow, the indifference to everything around her, it came from not being with him. She could try to cover the feelings up, to swallow them down and pretend that she didn't notice them, but they would always be there. By casting her out he'd sentenced her to a lifetime of pain and misery. She had discovered a freedom with him that she'd never known before, she had discovered a part of herself she'd never known before, and this adventure paled in comparison to the person she was with him. Was she really going to let him make a decision that affected her life this much?! That made her this miserable? That made them both this miserable? He had to be suffering from it too. Whether he liked it or not she was his true love, and that meant he was feeling the same things that she was. He might be better at hiding them, but no doubt he was feeling them too. Could she really allow them both to suffer like this?

No! She wouldn't stand for it. Not anymore. She didn't know when she'd decided, but it didn't matter. She was going back, she was going home. She'd broken him down once before, he wouldn't hurt her, he wasn't capable of it, she would stay whether he was happy about it or not and maybe one day he'd find that she really was more important than his power. Maybe one day he'd see that she really could love him despite his past and present.

"Belle," suddenly she felt Phillips hand gently at her back. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

Alright? She was wonderful, the best that she'd been for months. That empty place that she'd had since she had left was suddenly filling up. Yes, she'd freed a beast. Yes, she'd become a hero. But none of that mattered. It wouldn't matter unless it was her beast, unless someday she was his hero. If she could have she would have left that very moment, let her heart take her back to him. But she couldn't, she had to finish this first, on her own terms. She was so close to the end! She would be on her way soon enough.

"Fine," she responded with a smile to Phillips inquiry. She took a deep whiff through her nose and smelled ash. For a moment she stared at Phillip, wondering if the magic hadn't lasted, if it was possible for him to turn back into the Yaoguai, then she remembered that Mulan had said something about building a fire to help her find her way. She picked up the pace again, she really was very close "my, my friends over that ridge," she said pointing it out to him. As they rounded a group of trees she could see the light up ahead and Mulan sitting on a fallen log by it, looking at her book on the Yaoguai. "There she is," she muttered.

At her voice Mulan shut the book and managed to stand and walk over to the pair of them. She still limped but it appeared that the long rest had helped her. A wide smile spread over her face "Belle," she said reaching out for her shoulders in a friendly happy gesture. "You're alive!" she said, and for a moment her heart threatened to drop. Had she sent her to kill the Yaoguai really thinking that she wouldn't come back alive! She should have felt insulted, angry even, but instead let the comment pass. It was no matter. She was alive, and nothing, not even a dark thought like that could bring her down from this high that she was feeling.

"I, uh, I did it," she said triumphantly "I defeated the Yaoguai," she looked across to Phillip there beside her "with a little help," she didn't want to think of what would become of him if she hadn't recognized his writing, if he hadn't been smart enough to keep leaving the messages, believing that someone would figure it out eventually. There would be a woman out there always wondering, forever suffering, because he never came home. It would have been her fault and she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing that she was the cause of a separation between two people truly in love. She was all too familiar with the feeling.

"Who are you," Mulan asked the stranger, looking him up and down, confusion in her face over the sudden strange appearance of the young man.

"I was the Yaoguai," he informed her, with a hint of humorous mystery in his voice.

Mulan looked back to her, seeking answers of some kind, of course she wanted answers, hadn't she wanted them too. But the excited flutter in her belly didn't want to explain it all, he could do that, she had somewhere to be, and she didn't want to waste anymore time. She wanted nothing more than curl up in her chair by the fire with a good book and the squeak of a spinning wheel in the distance. "He was cursed," she explained, giving the most basic explanation she could "so I helped him, now he's going to help you," she continued, knowing her voice sounded rushed. That was ok, she was in a rush.

But Mulan looked at her confused again "wait, you're not coming?" she asked, sounding genuinely upset at the prospect. Imagine, after all this time she'd finally managed to make a friend! Friends were good, and some day she might be able to seek the woman out again, she knew where to look now, but there was someone else that needed her attention far more right now.

"I have another beast to face," and it wasn't going to be pretty, but it was the right thing to do, she knew that now. She exchanged her sword for the book, trading her brawn for her brains again, the life of a hero for the life of a caretaker. It was a fair trade in her mind. Besides, strength, physical strength wasn't going to help her where she was going, but her mind would. He'd loved her for who she was on the inside once before she just needed to remind him of that. Excitement raced through her as she looked up at the woman, feeling like her old self again, maybe she'd even stop back at the library she'd worked at and retrieve her blue dress again. She was doing the brave thing, and hoping, that like before, bravery would follow. "Good-bye," she said finally to her friend.

"Good-bye, Belle," Mulan echoed. And with a final nod at Phillip she headed back up the road, back to where she came from.


	32. A Love Worth Fighting For

The fairy dust was gone, Philip was safely with Mulan, the town was saved and a thought that had been growing in her mind since she'd heard the Prince's story had been spoken. Now there was no other option for her. She did have another beast to face, and staying here any longer than she had wasn't going to accomplish that goal.

Book secure in her hand, she trekked up the steep soft hill, each step making her more and more determined. She'd made a mistake. Very few people in life ever found their true loves. In fact Philip had been the first that she could ever remember meeting. Everyone else, well, they wandered around missing the other half themselves trying to find things that could fill up the space in their hearts. She knew well, she had been doing it since she left that castle. She'd tried odd jobs, the bitter taste of the alcohol, and now the adventure and promise of heroism she'd always wanted to have. It would never be a perfect fit.

She could try harder of course. Find a nice young man and settle down, have a few children, be like everyone else who had never found their true love. She might be happy one day but she'd never be whole. And it would be unfair to him and to herself too. If she knew where her true love was, then she couldn't let anything stand in the way of their being together. And that included him.

She'd made a mistake. It hadn't been as easy as she'd thought it would be. Curses never were. But whatever was inside of him that was preventing him from giving himself over completely to her, well she'd gotten past that once before and she could do it again, she knew she could. He was the only thing that would ever let her feel like a real person again. A whole person. Odd jobs wouldn't keep her mind occupied, alcohol would lose its flavor, and one act of heroism didn't erase the mission that she had given up. She didn't want to be a hero in any other way if she couldn't be his.

And now she was ready to fight.

She could do this. She was capable of being a hero and fighting to the bitter end. The look on his face as she'd talked to him last, the pain and anguish, it all told her that he wasn't a lost cause. He did love her. She just had to show him that he did. And she had to show him that she was capable of loving him through every bit of rage, turmoil, and complication that he would throw at her. He had doubted that she could love him, and she had left. It only served to further his beliefs. It was a tragic mistake, made in the heat of the moment, but she couldn't live with the regret any more. Maybe he couldn't either. And now she would go back. She would stay whether he liked it or not. She would plant herself on the castle doorstep until he let her in if that's what it took.

At last she managed to climb to the top of the hill, but instead of looking at the battle that lay ahead of her she chose to look back at the city she had just left. It was safe because of her, because she'd been brave enough to be a hero, to fight for something she wasn' sure about. Imagine what she could do when she was sure. "I'm coming back Rumple!" she declared boldly to the night air. It was a mistake that she was going to rectify. And she wasn't going to waste another moment.

She smiled as she began the first steps forward on her journey.

"Isn't that sweet," a voice suddenly answered her in the darkness. She looked up. It felt like the blood had completely drained from her face as her smile vanished. She couldn't help it, her heart pounded against her chest. It was the woman she'd met on the road that day. If his guess was right, which he always was, not to mention the cohort she always traveled with, this wasn't just a woman. It was the Queen. The Evil Queen. "Still fighting for true love, even to the bitter end." It wasn't an encouraging voice, she was mocking her.

She felt a wave of anger rise up in her chest. This was all her fault. If she hadn't had that discussion with her, maybe she would have come to the conclusion on her own and everything would be alright. She was the last person on earth that she wanted to see. She hoped it wasn't a bad omen, but her one experience with her, and the fact that her blood felt like ice running through her veins, told her that her fears were probably well founded. Her impressions were right then and they were right now. "How did you find me?" she asked suspiciously.

"You really should be nicer to your traveling companions," she answered with the same falsely sweet smile she'd given her that day on the road. "Right Claude?" she asked looking over at a pair of men in her caravan. Claude and Alistair! The men that she had set in the wrong direction!

She was trying not to panic but her heart was racing. This couldn't be happening, not now! She felt like she should run, dive back down the hill to find Philip and Mulan, but she doubted that she'd make it in time. The Queen wasn't alone, and she as well as a few other guards were on horseback. She wouldn't make it far. Should she scream? No, that wouldn't work either. Mulan was injured and required help. They might hear her but by the time the pair of them made it up the hill she could be hurt, or dead, or worse. She saw the empty cart with bars on it being drawn by two horses. And she was pretty sure she knew what was meant to be put into it. Ideas. She needed more ideas, more options.

"Take her to the tower," the woman ordered. And suddenly once of the guards stepped forward and put an arm around her forcefully.

"What? No!" she cried "What are, what are you doing?!" she asked as she was forcibly dragged over to the cage on wheels. She tried to think of what to do, where to go, who to find. Every possibility came up short. Except one: Negotiation. "I, I can save him!" she yelled at the woman. She was here for a reason. She had been on that road for a reason. Rumpelstiltskin had reacted to her kiss against her for a reason. She could only assume that she wanted his power. Or that she wanted him to be powerless. Whatever her motivations were the Queen had once hoped that she could break the curse. Maybe she could appeal to her on that and then warn Rumpelstiltskin. If there was anything she had learned from her time with him it was that deals could always be made. "Let me go to him," she cried struggling against the guard "I, I can break his curse! I can…"

"You already tried and failed," the Queen insisted with a disappointed edge to her voice "That monsters beyond saving." Even in the clutches of evil her mind still rebelled at her words at the name she'd called him. "I'm saving you a lifetime of pain and misery," she added like she should feel grateful for being shoved unceremoniously into a prison cell. As the door slammed and locked behind her she stared at the evil witch riding the horse before her. Whatever she was planning, whatever reason she wanted her, it wasn't good. But this wasn't the end. She was determined to fix this. And nothing was going to stand in her way, not even being held captive. She would figure it out. She had to.

"You can't keep us apart forever!" she stated, clutching the bars. He loved her, he would come for her. For selfish reasons or for honorable ones he would show up and rescue her and then she could right the wrong. "I'll fight for him!" she called as she watched the woman nonchalantly turn the horse and gallop away. "I'll never stop fighting for him!" She called as the sound of the hoof beats faded and the cart jerked forward in the wrong direction.


	33. Not a Friend

She was tired of being a prisoner. No matter how good she had it while she was actually being held captive, it never ended well for her. But this time she knew that instead of being kicked out of the palace, her confinement would end in death. That thought was all that she kept coming back too. When? How? Why? Then again it wasn't like she had anything else to do, maybe that was how the Queen wanted her, board and constantly in a state of unknowing. Her day consisted of getting food, sleeping, writing that mark on the wall, and maybe, if she was feeling adventurous today, she'd walk around the circular tower. Just for the fun of it. It was an all time low as the cycle repeated itself, never ending: sit on a cot in the middle of an empty round room, think about her death, stare at the other end of the room, think about her death, count the marks that she made on the wall, think about her death….and so it went on and on.

She sighed and stared up at the ceiling, just for something different to look at. Sometimes she wished that the Evil Queen would just kill her and get it over with. Whatever she wanted, whatever she was planning, she wouldn't help her. She didn't know where Rumpelstiltskin was, or what he was doing while she was being imprisoned simply for loving him, but she was just as loyal today as the moment the Evil Queen had taken her captive. She would never say anything against Rumpelstiltskin, no matter what the Queen offered her. Nothing would ever, ever, make her betray his confidence. She'd worked hard to get it and now...now...now she sat in a dark tower, waiting for him to rescue her, hoping that he would.

She knew that he loved her, even if he didn't want to say the words. She had expected him to at least show up and make her a deal for her freedom, or a deal with her guards to turn their heads while she escaped, or the Queen, or anything! After all it was in his best interest. He wouldn't want anyone to have power over him and he should have been fearful even if she didn't know much. But it had been months and he hadn't come. Day after day she sat here, chained to the room, staring at the wall, the ceiling, her own shadow. Food, death, sleep, death, mark, death, walk, death. This was her life, and what a pitiful life it was. What a pitiful death it would be.

Suddenly the door to her chamber creaked open, and she startled. It wasn't dinner time just yet, and this wasn't one of the Queens guards, they approached her with masks. This man was dressed in black, but his face was exposed, revealing a youthful man she had never seen before. He looked at her eagerly, and her heart started to pound. She'd grown up reading remarkable fantasies, wishing she could have someone elses life, and the result was constantly hearing the warning to be careful what you she wished for. Was it time? Had her death finally arrived? Was this man here to kill her? "You must be Belle," he said shutting the door. In his hand was a nasty looking hook of some kind. Was that it? Was this how she would meet her death? On the end of a sharp point?!

"The Queen sent you, didn't she?" she stated boldly. "She wants you to kill me," she assumed holding back her tears. If this was her last chance to be brave then she was going to face it with dry eyes and a straight spine. An honorable death for the princess she was.

"I'm not here to kill you, love," so it was to be torture then. She would face it just as bravely, she just hoped that her body would hold out and that her brain would keep her mouth shut about Rumpelstiltskin. She couldn't let herself tell him anything. "I'm here to rescue you," he corrected.

She replayed the words in her mind as the man knelt before her and started fumbling with the chains around her ankle. "Rescue me?" The man took her by surprise. She hadn't expected anybody but him to come for her, and yet here was a stranger, offering her exactly what she longed for. Was it a trick? It certainly seemed to good to be true. But just as she braced herself for the possibility, the shackles once painfully tight around her ankles released for the first time since she'd been here. It felt wonderful just to feel the fresh air on her skin instead of the cold hardness of the chains. She was amazed, he really was going to rescue her. "Who are you?" she asked gently, offering her wrists to him as well. She wanted to assist him in any way possible. Especially since she now had a good look at his hand. He wasn't holding a hook, his hand was a hook. She would offer him any help that he needed so long as he could get her out of here and back to Rumpelstiltskin. Even if he didn't want to see her, he would know what to do to keep her safe so that this never happened again. He'd want to keep her out of harms way, if only for his own sake.

"A friend," he answered, refusing her his name. She just hoped that wasn't a hint of what would come of this relationship. "We haven't much time," he said getting to work on the shackles holding her wrists. "Your father's life is in danger," for the second time, his words had a startling effect on her. A thousand questions popped into her mind. Danger? What kind of danger? He was supposed to be protected! Was the Queen trying to harm him as well? Thinking that if her father was in danger then she would talk? And why wasn't Rumpelstiltskin fulfilling his deal of protection?! Was he that angry with her that he would break their deal? She had held up her end, and then some, so why wasn't he?!

This was a mess, all of it, it had been ever since the day she'd kissed him. And now her father was in danger too? She needed to get the Rumpelstiltskin, if he had protected those she loved once he could do it again. Not for nothing, she knew, but maybe if she promised to leave him alone, if she promised not to see him again as she'd been planning since her capture...the thought of purposefully never seeing him again broke her heart. But she need to protect those that she loved, and if that was how it was going to happen, then she would trade the man she loved but didn't want her for the family that she loved who did want her. She stared at the man with the Hook, willing him to give her more information. "He's being attacked by the very same monster that stole you away from your family in the first place," he explained quickly, honoring her silent request.

The words didn't shock her this time, but they did confuse her, "Rumpelstiltskin?" she had to clarify. It just seemed so absurd to her.

"The Dark One, he must be stopped," the man said freeing her and finally pulling her to her feet. This made no sense to her at all. Rumpelstiltskin was supposed to be protecting her family and friends. Why would he attack her father? Unless…unless he was trying to draw her out. Unless the Evil Queen hadn't informed him that she was holding her captive and he was searching for her, and knew no other way to get to her. He knew that she would come back for her friends and family, it was the brave thing to do. She could fix this. She would be a hero again! But she had to get to him first to do it!

"You spent more time with him than anyone," the man continued looking her in the eyes with desperation "There are rumors of a magical weapon that has the power to kill him-"

"No, no, no" she interrupted him. He was thinking about killing Rumpelstiltskin, it wasn't necessary! It was much simpler than that, "let, let me talk to him. He's not a monster," and if she was going to spend the rest of her life trying she would prove it one day to the world.

"Belle, your father's life hangs in the balance," he insisted a little more agitated than she thought he should be. It was her father not his! "I need to know where that weapon is and where to find it," he was desperate for it, she could tell that. But that very fact scared her beyond belief, she was starting to get the feeling that this man was not the 'friend' he introduced himself as. No one who wanted to use her to destroy Rumpelstiltskin was a friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I have no idea how to," she swallowed down her sneer the very thought, "how to kill Rumpelstiltskin," she yelled at him.

"You don't," his voice suddenly changed to surprise. And she saw in his gaze a flash of disappointment before hiding again behind shock. He really expected her to know how to kill him? Clearly he wasn't familiar with the man at all.

"No!" she yelled at him. "And, and, nor would I!" she screamed at the man who was definitely not a friend.

"Oh," the man looked like he was finally getting the idea, but she didn't want to work with him either way now. However, he was the lesser of two evils. He had freed her, and that was wonderful, but they needed to run and get away from the Evil Queen before she realized she was free. And then, once they were away from here she would escape from him, and get back to Rumpelstiltskin, as she'd intended. He might not want to see her, or love her, but he would protect her. The man in him wouldn't leave her in danger. Even if she never saw him again, she would be safe. "Well then," the man muttered, "I'm afraid I'm not here to rescue you." Her eyes widened as she saw him draw his hand back, she barely had a moment to think to move...before her world went dark.


	34. Trauma

_She was tired. Tired of yelling. Tired of screaming at the door. Tired of asking questions that never got answered. She was tired of being tired. _

_Now she sat huddled against in the corner of her cell sitting on her slab that was supposed to pass for a bed, reaping the drug induced rewards of her actions. __She'd spent the night pounding on the door, not caring who she woke up or what kind of trouble she caused. The determined screams, had turned into cries of fury as her questions went unanswered, and as the hours passed her fury had receded into begging and desperate pleas. _

_Just one question! She just wanted to know one thing. Just a name. She didn't even care if it was an ugly name or if it had a beautiful meaning, she just wanted to know that she had one. Because if she had a name that meant that there was someone out there that loved her, someone out there that had cared enough to bestow something that precious upon her. And if someone could do that for her, well that meant that she had a past. That meant that she wasn't no one from nowhere. She had to have come from somewhere. She had to be in someone's heart?!_

_And yet day after day she sat, no visitors, no letters, not even the slightest hint that anyone outside of these four walls knew that she even existed. _

_Her long night was starting to catch up with her, and the little energy she had left was being used to fight off the drugs coursing through her system. She didn't want to rest until she had her answers, but her body didn't seem to want to agree and her eye lids were beginning to feel heavier and heavier with every breath that she took. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, letting the hospital gown she wore act as a blanket. Close as she was to sleep, she still couldn't let herself lay down. That would be to admit to defeat. But her head began to sink down against her chest, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness until she heard a familiar squeak, and the icy feeling rushing through her blood made her instantly awake. There wasn't the slightest hint to suggest that anyone knew she existed..._

_Except for her._

_She glanced up, knowing what she would find, and stared ominously at the door that kept her secured in this tiny padded prison. Normally it was solid, except for times like this. Light from the outside hallway leaked in through the little square hole in the door. On the other side of that small hole was a face. It was a woman, short black hair, eyes that could only be described as wicked, and her smile…that was the most memorable thing about her. Her smile was one of glee and gloating, like she was incredibly happy to see her sitting there locked up in the tiny cell, like all her hopes and dreams had come true. It made her stomach turn. _

_She stared back at the woman, afraid to move because she might leave. Despite the bad feeling that she got every time she saw her she didn't want her to leave. Her being there proved that she wasn't a figment of her imagination, and it proved that she hadn't always been crazy. This woman seemed to know her, seemed to be happy she was here, there had to be a reason for it. And yet she didn't know who she was, she wasn't sure if they were related, or if she was an enemy. For all she knew, the woman could have ruined her life and she would never know it. _

_She never introduced herself, she never came into the cell, never talked to her. Her appearances always seemed to leave her with more questions than answers. She'd only seen the woman a handful of times. The space between those visits seemed far apart, but she knew that wasn't possible. She'd been here for as long as she could remember but she didn't think it could be as long as the visits suggested. Certainly no more than a year._

_Suddenly the small smirk that she'd been bearing broke into a wide gleeful smile that made her stomach clench uncomfortably. What was it about her imprisonment that made her so joyful, so happy?! It didn't seem fair. It was downright rude. She'd been up all night trying to figure out the life that she didn't have, begging the nurses to simply give her a name, and this woman just felt like she could burst in here at any time and watch her like she was on display for her own personal amusement. _

_Hot rage began to boil in her blood. She wanted her answers. This woman seemed like she might have them, why wouldn't she tell her? "What's my name," she asked with a cold voice. The woman did nothing, just continued to watch her. "What's my name?!" she shouted at her, pushing out of her position on the pitiful bed. "Who am I?" she screamed pressing herself against the safety glass within the door. "Why am I here? Tell me who I am! Please! I just want to know my name! Just tell me my name!" _

_Suddenly the woman did something she'd never done before. She began to laugh. Just a small chuckle, but threatening enough to make her shrink against the far side of the room. It was enough to make her small room seem even smaller, like there wasn't a place that she could go that would properly hide her from this woman. Somehow she knew. She'd been wrong. This woman wasn't going to give her answers. From somewhere deep down in her soul she just knew that if anything this woman was to blame for her current situation. If only because she knew she was here and refused to help her. _

_Small as it was, the laughter seemed to echo off the walls of her cell, taunting her, bring tears to her eyes. She balled herself up against the far wall and buried her head in her hands. Why did she do this? Why would she insist on torturing her like this?! Surely she had better things to do. Surely she realized how terribly upset it made her. Why would anyone do that to her! Why would anyone take pleasure in hurting another person this way?_

_It stopped just as suddenly as it began, and she timidly picked her head out of her lap, glancing at the door. She was still there, that face was still staring at her going to pieces, but she did nothing about it. Instead the face got suddenly closer to the glass, if only by a fraction, and lifted her eyebrows. "Sweet dreams, dear," and with a metallic bang the trapdoor fell shut._


	35. Hopeful

_It was hopeless. She'd pounded on that door until her hands felt like they were a broken mess, until her arms were so tired it hurt to raise them, and all it had gotten her was another needle to her arm and placed on the slab against the side of her padded prison. When she'd woken the next morning she couldn't find the energy, the will, or the hope to get up and move. Not even when they shoved a tray of food into the cell at her. Not when they yelled at her to eat the untouched food before they'd taken it away. The twitching of her legs couldn't stir her, the questions in her mind went unasked and unanswered, and she remained curled on that slab for the rest of the morning. The foam mattress was making her uncomfortable, but the sound of running and hurried feet coming from upstairs was her lullaby._

_Was this what her life was fated to be like forever? She might be able to deal with it if she knew why she was here? If she knew that there was a reason she was kept locked up in this room. But then again, maybe the fact that she didn't know was the reason. She was no one and she had nothing: no likes or dislikes, no family, no friends, no past, and no future. Day in and day out. This room was all she knew, and all she was doomed to know forever. _

_Suddenly her door opened, the noise and the action was enough to jerk her out of her state of oblivious nothingness. The only time that door ever opened was on the day they escorted her to the shower or when they needed to drug her. She'd already been drugged and there was no need for it at the moment. Was today shower day? No, that was yesterday. That was why she had started pounding against the door, because no one had answered her questions yet again! So if she was calm and it wasn't shower day, then why was the door opening? _

_A man stood before her. She didn't recognize him, he wasn't one of the nurses, she knew them all only too well. Who was he? What did he want?_

_He held out a gentle hand for her and said "come with me," she perched herself up on her elbow and glanced around him. He had made a fatal mistake. He'd left her door open. The nurses she had seen had never done that! He may have been dressed like a nurse but he certainly wasn't one! Who was he? __Was this someone she knew? Did she have a visitor? Had someone finally come to take her home and away from this mess of a life?_

_She placed her hand in his. He didn't seem familiar. No memory of him triggered in her brain. But he wanted her to go with him, and instead of grasping her roughly he had politely offered his hand, his voice hurried, like they didn't have much time. Suddenly a new thought jumped into her head. Maybe she didn't know him. Maybe he was rescuing her, truly and really breaking her out of this place! She wouldn't argue with him, anywhere was better than here. There were answers waiting out there somewhere for her and they certainly weren't in here. _

_But it did beg the question, who was the man and why did he want to free her? Why was he helping her? "Who are you? Why, why are you doing this?" She wasn't afraid of him, and he didn't look like he'd hurt her. But could she trust him? Could she trust anyone?_

_He placed his hands on her shoulders. It was comforting, no one here had ever comforted her before. No one had ever cared what her emotional state was so long as she was quiet. She knew that her wild conclusions might not have been perfectly correct, but they certainly weren't wrong either. He definitely wasn't a nurse here. The man stared down at her, looking at her with a look of intense sympathy. She didn't even know people could have that look, was she that pathetic? _

_"My name is Jefferson," the man stated. Her heart soared with amazement! He had answered her question. He had a name, did that mean she had a name?! That was about to be her next question when he suddenly added " and I need your help to do something I can't," the request made her curious. She could find out her name later. But purpose? Did she have a purpose in this world? She'd never been able to do anything. What was it he thought she could do? _

_"There's a man," he instructed "his name is Mr. Gold. Find him. All you have to do is tell him where you've been and that Regina locked you up." Her heart leapt at the proposal. __So then, he was going to free her! But how? How had he managed to get down here in the first place? The stern nurse that guarded the door like a dog would never have let anyone in, and she certainly never let her out! How were they going to leave and...and..._

_"What?" she said, wishing that he could have slowed down. There was so much filtering through her at the moment it was making it hard to focus. And when she focused on the command he'd given her she found it confusing. He said the words clearly but they didn't make any sense to her. Mr. Gold? Regina? Did she know these people? Did they know her? Regina must have. If what he was saying was true then she was the reason that she'd been down here since before she could remember. Was she a doctor here then? _

_"It's very important," he said patiently, the intense look on his face never fading away. "Mr. Gold's going to protect you, but you have to tell him Regina locked you up!" he said, a temper flaring somewhere behind his words. She wanted desperately to know what the source of his aggression was, and why he was helping her when no one else would, but she knew that door wouldn't stay open forever, and it could only be a matter of seconds until they were found and lost their chance. She had to trust the man before her, after all he was helping her more than anyone else here ever had. Her answers could wait, but her escape could not. She nodded, understanding what he was asking her to do, more than willing to get on with it. "He's going to know what to do," he said in a reassuring tone. Although she didn't know who the tone was for: Jefferson or whoever she was. "Do you understand?" he asked her as seriously as he could be._

_She nodded, feeling something that might have been a smile at her lips. She had a purpose. "Yes, I, I have to find Mr. Gold," she stated. He nodded at her, finally happy. _

_"Good. Remember that." He stepped away from her and handed her a jacket that he had been holding. "Put this on," he ordered "and follow me." He moved out the door and she followed, wrapping the jacket around her. In the cinderblock hall there was no one but her neighbor mopping the floor. There was no time to ask questions or ask him to come with them. He hurried leading her down the hallway. The stern nurse that guarded the door appeared to be asleep at her desk and he pushed her up the stairs, stopping only at the number pad at the top. He punched in an unknown combination and the door swung open. He continued to lead her down the whitewashed walls of the hospital, walls that she couldn't remember ever passing through before. At the front desk someone called after them but Jefferson simply turned his head and yelled "I'm taking the patient for a walk," and sped up hurrying her through the doors with a hand on her back. _

_She normally didn't like people touching her, but she didn't think this was the optimal time to stop and tell him, not now that she was closer to freedom than she could ever remember being. Finally she was outside, and the feeling of the cool air against her cheeks was the best feeling in the world. She'd done it, she was outside, she was free! "Hey," Jefferson called making her turn around to face him again. "You remember what you're supposed to do?" he asked. His words more flustered and hurried. _

_"Find Mr. Gold, tell him where I've been, and tell him Regina locked me up," she repeated happily. She could do that. _

_"Good," he opened his mouth to talk but suddenly the hospital doors opened and a nurse that she did recognize spotted the two of them. Even worse he recognized her._

_"HEY!" he screamed. __They had been caught!_

_"That way!" she glanced up as Jefferson pointed down a road. "Go! Run!" She didn't need to be told twice. She took off as fast as her legs could carry her. Not stopping to check if Jefferson had gotten away, too. She couldn't risk slowing down as the sounds of the nurses pursuing here were still close. She should have been afraid, but running, really running, felt too good to feel anything less then euphoria. And as the sound of the nurses footsteps began to slow and fade behind her she couldn't help but smile. She was free. She had a purpose. She had hope._


	36. Purpose

_She rushed into the building, shutting the door behind her, still out of breath from the run here. The sound of a chime made her jump. A glance above her told her that it was a bell that had rung, announcing her presence to everyone in the shop, but as she looked around, she saw that no one appeared to be around. She hoped she was in the right place. Jefferson had told her to find Mr. Gold and the sign did say "Mr. Gold Pawnbroker." She had discovered something already, she could read. But why he would send her to this man was a complete mystery to her._

_A sound she couldn't identify, something like fumbling or a drawer being closed, drew her attention to a curtain in the back of the room. With careful hesitation she walked toward it. Nervous clattering thoughts in her head reminded her to be careful. It could be anyone back there: Friend or Foe, Mr. Gold or the Woman-with-Black-Hair. She took a deep breath, telling herself to be brave, this was easy: if it was a woman-run, if it was a man…if it was a man, she would just tell him exactly what Jefferson had told her. Maybe it would somehow make sense to him. _

_She pulled back the curtains and sighed with relief as she saw the back of a person, long hair, but clearly the body type of a man. He was hunched over a counter, thin and scrawny, he didn't look like he would be powerful enough to protect her, but looks could be deceiving. She didn't feel like she was crazy, and yet that's what everyone told her. She wasn't crazy, she was just empty, no life, no memory, no idea of who she was or where she was or anything of the world around her. Empty. Could he give her the answers that she needed? _

_She had to find out if he was the one she was looking for first. Words, she needed words. "Excuse me," she said trying to be loud enough to be heard. "Are you Mr. Gold?"_

_The man sighed "Yes I am, but I'm afraid the shops…" he paused as he turned and looked at her. It looked like someone had just stolen the very air in his lungs, like he'd seen her before but hadn't all at the same time. "Closed," he finished. She suspected she had caught him off guard somehow. His look seemed to confirm it, he was staring at her like she was the last person on earth that he expected to walk into the shop. Did that mean he knew her? She didn't feel like she knew him. Nothing was coming to her, no names or memories or places. She was still a blank page, and he! He looked like he was seeing her as the ghost she sometimes felt she was. _

_She shook her head. There was another reason she was here. Questions could wait, she'd been waiting on the answers for as long as she could remember and another few moments wouldn't matter. She had to focus, on why she was here: find Mr. Gold, give him the message, and get protection. Then she could have her answers. She took a couple of steps forward. "I was, uh" she really wished he would stop staring at her, it made her feel awkward and self conscious. She had to look terrible with her tangled hair and her hospital gown. "I was told to, to find you," she said, pushing the thought from her head and fulfilling the first of her obligations "and tell you that 'Regina locked me up'" he continued to stare at her, but moved from behind the table separating them toward her slowly. She didn't recognize him but she was beginning to believe more and more that he knew who she was. It was wonderfully exciting, maybe he would have answers for her, "does, does that mean anything to you?" she asked, knowing that she had given the message as requested. _

_He walked over to her, still dazed. He looked afraid, he acted like if he blinked she might vanish into thin air. He hesitated, but finally stretched out his hand and placed it around her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She glanced down at it confused. What was he doing? "You're real" he muttered with shock in his voice. Of course she was real, she was just empty. Anyone could see that. "You're alive" this time the shock in his voice was joined with something she couldn't put a name to. She imagined that it was something she would feel if she ever managed to find her past, remarkable relief, or like a miracle had occurred, or maybe something far more shocking, like the dead could come back to life. "She did this to you?"he questioned looking her up and down. Now there was an emotion she knew. Anger. She'd sported it herself when the drugs she was kept on failed and she banged on the door of her prison demanding the answers no one would give her. All it had ever gotten her was a sharp sting to the arm and days of catatonic gazing. Similar to how he was staring at her now, and it was driving her absolutely crazy. _

_He'd said the words and he was still acting like he couldn't believe them. This was the man Jefferson had sent her to?! This was the man that was supposed to keep her safe? She found that very hard to believe. "I was told you'd protect me," she stated, wondering what he would think about Jefferson's assumption. _

_It was like something in him broke. He was still staring but now he looked as though he might burst into tears at any moment. In fact, his chin was starting to tremble, and she realized he was starting to cry. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, and suddenly launched himself at her. Seizing her and holding her against him. A hug, it was called a hug. She just couldn't remember ever having one before, and she froze. She supposed this meant that he did know her. Why else would he have this reaction. But how did he know her? He didn't feel familiar, he didn't seem to respond the way a father or brother would. Not that she would know, the only one who had ever come to see her was the Woman-With-Black-Hair. But she couldn't imagine a brother or father not knowing that she was alive like he had believed. What was left then? _

_Finally her body seemed to be getting the signals from her brain, and she shook her head stepping out of his grasp. "I'm sorry. Do I, do I know you?" she asked utterly confused. Who wouldn't know that she was alive, and greet her like this. And why was her past missing? She wanted so much to know who he was so she could wrap her arms around him as well, but the memories just weren't coming to her. _

_She wished they would. __"No," he answered, tears threatening to slip from his eyes. __Something about her words seemed to upset him and she just couldn't understand why. __She wanted to know, she had to know! "But you will," he assured her with determination. She was confused, more than she could ever remember being in her life. No, she didn't know him? He had to know her, no one greeted a stranger like that. How could he know her without her knowing him? And what did his last words mean? Nothing about her situation made sense. _

_He grabbed her hand, which she promptly pulled away, he glanced down at their separated hands, hurt by her action. Yes, he knew her! She could just tell. But she was feeling more and more confused by the second. After a moment he glanced back up at her, his face determined, then muttered "come with me" and gently placed an arm on her back, which she allowed because it felt protective in a way, and she left the tiny shop with him feeling that she had more questions than answers._


	37. Body, Mind, and Soul

"Wait!"

It brought her to a standstill. It felt like no other feeling that she'd ever felt before. Like an invisible pulse of pure energy that rocketed up from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. It filled her up, the endless emptiness inside of her collapsed in on itself, and she found herself looking around at the strange surroundings, realizing that they weren't strange at all. She was in the forest, hiking up a long hill, in nothing but a hospital gown, some stockings, and shoes that were definitely the reason that she kept tripping. While the last time she had lost all of her memories of the other life this time she kept them. They weren't much better, she hadn't had an identity, but they filled in the blank spaces and made her gasp with wonder as her mind put the fragments of the two together.

"No, no, we're very close" She looked ahead of her at the sound of the voice and this time it was her heart that stopped too. He didn't realize. She remembered going into his shop, and remembered the look on his face when she'd walked in and asked for protection. Then she had been utterly confused. Now everything made sense, who she had been running from, why she needed protection, and even his reaction to her standing before him. How would he know what had just happened? Clearly his memories had been intact. Which meant he remembered just as she now did...everything. Suddenly she felt like there wasn't enough air in her lungs, like there wasn't enough in the entire world. How would he react if he knew that she had her memories back? Would he send her away again? Or would it be the warm welcome that she had gotten before?

His back was still turned. She could run. As soon as the thought popped into her head she realized it wasn't an option. She had nowhere to go. If the Evil Queen found out that she had escaped she would come for her. She had no idea where she was, no idea how to hide here, she barely had clothes! Besides, the last time she'd left him, she'd ended up regreting it, and making plans to get back to him whether he liked it or not. She looked ahead at the man in front of her, and felt the tears start to gather. Was she as brave now as she'd felt then? And what about him? Would he leave her like last time? Or would he protect her as he had promised? She didn't have another option. She'd have to find out.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she called, the name coming just as naturally as walking, even after all these years "wait!" The name caught his attention, and he finally stopped moving. Her legs took her toward him, hobbling up the hill, she watched him turn slowly toward her. He looked at her like he was skeptical, and maybe a little scared. He was just as unsure about this as she was. Maybe she wasn't the only one that kept replaying the last time she had seen him in her mind. The only question was whether or not history would repeat itself.

"I remember," she informed him, but his expression still looked shocked. He kept staring at her, like he was waiting for her to say something. Or maybe he was waiting for her to run. She still hadn't decided completely whether or not she should. It had been so long since she'd seen him. Her memories seemed so fresh that the shop and that cell seemed blurry and somehow farther away. He was different. His skin was normal, and not scaly or discolored. The greasy hair was gone, giving way to long brown hair sprayed with a twinge of gray here and there. The cane was new, she didn't know why he needed it, but it fit his personality. As did his clothes, they made him look regal and smart, maybe even a little authoritative. But his face didn't match. His face was gentle. And it reminded her of all the times that they had talked in his castle, shared their meals. It reminded her of that look he'd had after she dropped her chipped cup. She'd been expecting anger, and the face that had met her gentleness. It was so far from the last look that he'd given her as she'd left or after…

She pulled her mind away from that. She didn't want to focus on it, she just wanted to gather her courage and focus on the positive. They were here, together, and that look, that emotion, was nowhere on his face now. She just wanted to pretend like they could do that moment over. Well, maybe they could do it over, she'd been brave once, she could be brave again? "I love you," she burst out, her brain not knowing what to do. Should she step forward and kiss him again? Should she smile or frown? Laugh or cry? She couldn't make up her mind and the only compromise she could make was to do all at once. They were the words she wished she'd been able to say so long ago, that she'd dreamed of saying locked away at the Queens palace, and now that she stood facing him again there was no way she couldn't say them. No matter what his reaction.

Nervously she watched him. It felt like ages for him to show some kind of expression on his face, she waited in limbo, her mind still screaming at her to get away while she still could, while her body kept her feet firmly planted in front of him, just as she'd planned before she'd been captured. But then, everything changed. A smile spread across his face and he nodded. Her heart lifted, and she was happy that she had listened to her instinct and stayed to see that look of acknowledgement. The tension that was between them seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke as he reached out for her and she threw her arms around his neck. They crashed together like two magnets that had never been allowed to connect, always tied together but never allowed to come together the way they were meant to until this moment. His arm held her tightly against him, closer than anyone else in her life ever had, and she took in the smell of him, which was just as familiar as it was old. She couldn't help but let herself cry, as she took in the new feeling of being this close to him, of having him hold her securely.

"Yes," she heard him whisper against her, as he rocked them side to side. Whether from stability issues or in a natural movement she couldn't tell, but she liked it, it was comforting. "Yes, and I love you." The words sent a new wave of relief through her. They were the words that she'd been waiting to hear since that day in the castle. The way that he'd said them told her that it wasn't spontaneous. He did love her, he'd known he'd loved her for a long time. He said them just as she had, there had, like there was nothing more important than those simple words.

She didn't know what had happened between then and now, she wondered if he had come to regret letting her go as much as she feared he would, she wondered if he thought of her in the days that followed her abrupt departure as much as she'd thought of him. Somehow she felt that she wasn't alone in the way that she'd tortured herself, thinking that things could have gone back to normal if she'd only made one decision differently.

She let herself hug him. And when she realized that their hugging had gone to holding, she squeezed him tighter. What had happened in their past didn't matter, they had gotten to this place, one way or another, they'd come back to each other. And right here, this moment, this was all that mattered. For her that proved that it was true love far more than her ability to break his curse had. She could stand here forever with him, locked in an eternal embrace, so long as it was him that she was with, she was complete: body, mind, and finally soul.

"But, hey" she felt the arm around her back release. She wasn't ready yet, she wasn't ready to let him go again. She wanted to kiss him, because somehow she knew that it would be different from the last time. Then his hand was on her head and too soon she found that she was loosening her grip and letting him go. But he didn't release her completely; his hand remained on her cheek, pushing the tangled mess of hair off her face, maintaining contact. It was such a change from those brief moments that he would shy away from her as if she'd burned him.

"There'll be time for that," he reassured her, as if he could tell exactly what she was thinking. Maybe he did. It had always seemed like she knew what he was thinking, maybe it went both ways. Maybe that was the way that true love worked. Then again upon being reunited after long years apart she supposed there wasn't much else they could be thinking about. "There'll be time for everything," she supposed he was right. They were together again, and she would fight as hard as she could, harder even, in order to keep them that way. They had nothing but time. So why he was hurrying them along now? They needed to talk, they needed to sort out the scattered pieces of their past, before they could move forward.

"But first," he looked her up and down, small traces of regret slipping to the surfaces beneath his look of persistence and hurry. He didn't want them to stop either, "there is something I must do," he whispered feverishly, then turned and continued to lead them up the mountain. She opened her mouth to question him, but he was in a hurry, and she didn't even know where to begin. As her mind cleared the smell of him out of her brain she began to think like her old self again, logically. They had to go, they couldn't stay here. The Evil Queen was coming and they needed to be somewhere safe. So then, why were they in the woods? And why had he dragged her up here in the first place?


	38. Perfection

At last something besides trees unfurled before them. She could feel surprise and confusion lining her face. It was a well! And in the middle of the natural forest the man made stones seemed to stick out in an obvious way. No wonder her eye had been so drawn to it. Surely this wasn't what they were here for? But she watched as he strode determinedly over to the eye sore. Then, as if by second thought, he turned and reached for her, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her along next to him. He was looking at the out of place object with great interest. "What is this place?" she asked, wondering what was so intriguing about it. She supposed it was beautiful in a strange way. But it was just a well. There were hundreds of them, why had they come to this one?

"This is a very special place, Belle," he explained. He released her and pointed to the object, "the waters that run below, are said to have the powers to return that which one has lost," he said with a grin. As if it made everything perfectly clear. She was utterly confused, he'd answered her question telling her where they were but she was hoping he would tell her why.

He stepped up to the well and pulled something from his pocket. She stepped up beside him to get a better look at the object. It was a glass vial with something purple in it that looked so weightless she couldn't tell if it was gas or liquid. He set it on the stone ledge and watched as he unstopped it and after a moment dropped it below. Together they watched it fall, down, down, down, before making an echoing splash in the waters below. For a moment nothing happened but then a cold gust raced out of the opening, blowing back her hair. But she continued to watch, confused as ever. What was happening?

Suddenly a purple smoke plumed out of the well and fell down lightly on the ground around it. She stepped back, shocked at the substance boiling out of the well, not wanting to let it touch her. Something about it felt wrong, like it didn't belong in a beautiful place as pure as this forest. He wrapped his hand around her arm taking a step back with her. Was he surprised by it too? No, as it snaked around their ankles she saw him take a step, ever so slight, into it eagerly. Embracing it. She stared up as it rose higher and higher, forming a great cloud before them and cascading down the hillside to their backs like a waterfall. "But I don't understand," she said watching it.

She felt him step up behind her a hand gently at her waist. But the powerful cloud scared her and she found very little comfort in his touch, "this is a land without magic Belle, and I'm bringing it," he hissed in her ear. "Magic, is coming," the smile on his face scared her. It was the face of secrets, and she couldn't understand why he would want the magic back.

"But why?" why would he bring something so dastardly into the world untouched by its impurity? Why would he be willing to let it consume him again?

"Why? Because magic," he answered before looking down at her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "is power." The words came out in a harsh tone. But no sooner had she begun to contemplate it and the cloud suddenly seemed to rear up. Frightened, she turned her back and pressed her face into his chest. His arms came around her, and she shrank against him waiting to feel like she was falling as it knocked against them. But she felt nothing but a light breeze. She took a chance and looked over his shoulder. She watched as it rolled down the mountain side, toward the town and away from the two of them.

As the smoke rolled away from them she took a small step away putting some space between the two of them. She turned and looked around. The air around them had cleared so quickly it was almost like...magic. She didn't want to be here anymore, and as she looked at him, staring stunned at the well, she realized it wasn't the right place for either of them. No doubt the town would be in shambles at the approaching cloud of purple magic and they should get back and answer questions. His arm was wrapped around her like a cloak but she wasn't sure if he even realized this. She tried to take a timid step forward, hoping that if she led he would follow after her. They would talk about what he had just done, and why, but here was not the time and not the place for it. She was unwilling to be apart again so quickly after coming back to him.

But before she could move forward he whispered something that made her stop dead in her tracks. "My darling Belle," her heart soared as she turned to face him, his arm ever present, like he couldn't bear the thought of the physical separation. He'd never said her name like that. And he'd never used the endearment of 'darling' before. It was such a beautiful word she truly didn't know he even knew it. He was looking at her again, in that way that told her just how happy and astounded he was that she was standing before him. Magic aside, the change she could see in him was remarkable: from "Go!" to "darling!", from power to love, and from distance to closeness. It was truly remarkable.

And it appeared she had not lost her ability to read his emotions. She could see something grating at him, something was on his mind, but it was like he was afraid to ask it. Like if he started to ask questions then she would be able to, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that. But just as she remembered, he was eternally curious. And she knew it was only a matter of time, before her questioning look and his curiosity won out. "You have to tell me what happened to you."

He didn't phrase it as a question, apparently somethings never changed, but it still confused her. Didn't he know? "I was abducted," she answered, thinking if only she reminded him then he would remember.

But he only questioned the story further, "Regina?"

She nodded thinking back on the woman who had often looked in on her happily in that place. It was the same woman who had taken her. Regina? She assumed so, Jefferson had used that name, although the woman had never actually introduced herself as anything other than the Queen. And it didn't take much to realize that it was the Evil Queen everyone talked about with fear. "She locked me away until her curse and I've been in the asylum ever since," the memories were painful, but she tried to focus on the one good thing: at least she had them again. It seemed her memory had returned completely. His knowledge of the incident, however, didn't.

"For twenty-eight years!" he exasperated in a disgusted voice. He really hadn't known? He seemed to always know everything. She had waited in that prison for him to come and get her. He had never shown. Was that why? Had he really never known? She nodded, "All these years, you've been here?" he spat, "alive!"

The word suddenly gave her all the answers she sought. Everything made sense. She assumed he would come for her if only to protect himself agains the little knowledge of him that she carried, but he hadn't. The only explanation was that he hadn't known to look. And the only way that would have happened…was if someone had told him she was dead. The way he had said that word confirmed it. No wonder he had looked at her like he was seeing a ghost. She had been to him. And although she couldn't be sure who had told him this, she could take a pretty good guess based on his original assumption of who captured her: The Evil Queen. "Is, is that why you did this?" she thought back to bringing the magic back, thinking that he was going to use it for the worst possible thing in the world. "Why you wanted magic: for revenge?" she questioned, hating the very word that was on her tongue.

"Oh no," he answered, a thought brewing in his mind. "But it might come in handy," he said with a wicked sneer on his face. It reminded her of the time that the Sheriff had threatened her. He never took well to it. She just hadn't known why until it had been too late.

She shook her head, "no," she muttered knowing what he was thinking, "no!"

"I cannot let this stand! Belle, I will not let this stand!" he yelled at her. But the outburst wasn't against her, it was for her. But it wasn't necessary, she didn't want the violence. She'd seen enough of it to last a lifetime, and she wanted it out of her life.

"Look," she reached out and grabbed his hand, it was the first thing that she could think of. His temper could be uncontrollable, she had seen that first hand, and it could lead him to make mistakes that he regretted. She wasn't going to let the Evil Queen do that to him. She had intruded in their lives enough. And although she had no love for the woman, she wouldn't let him hurt her. It never solved anything, just made a never ending circle of payback. She just wanted to live a life with him that she knew they could have. She wanted nothing more than to forget the past and start right now. But she needed assurance, that he knew as well as she that the past was gone. She finally had the opportunity to give him another chance, like she had wanted to before her capture. Now the question was would he make the right decision this time. "Promise me, promise me you won't give into your hate. Promise me," she felt a smile tug at her lips just thinking of him saying the words she wanted to hear, "you won't kill her."

He looked away, avoiding her eyes, not saying anything. He knew. He knew exactly what she was asking, and it went against every instinct he had. He didn't know if he could make her that promise. She felt tears sting her eyes. This couldn't happen. Not again. "Promise me," she begged "and we can be together." The irony of making a deal with the deal maker wasn't lost on her. But it seemed to give her something like what she wanted from him.

"Oh," his bitter face softened into a collection of emotions: a smirk of happiness, a wrinkled forehead of guilt, a tear of hope, and in his eyes she was reflected along with all the love and care she had seen the first time that they had kissed an eternity ago. It broke her and she couldn't resist the tears filling her eyes or the tremble of her chin. He gently reached forward and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek tenderly. "Sweetheart," he whispered staring down at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She needed the words, more than breath in her body. Because she didn't think she could turn back from this moment, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. "Promise," he finally said with a smile. His hand was at her neck distracting her from the world around her.

The universe seemed to slow: planets, stars, moons. All stopped in their orbit as she felt that hand gently pulled her forward and watched as he moved closer to her. Her heart stopped too, as she felt the press of his lips against hers. It was more forceful than it had been last time. Less terrifying, more powerful. But it felt just as natural and right as it had then. And she found herself drawn into it far more than the last time. She reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck, unwilling to break their connection. He seemed just unwilling as she was, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her even closer to him. He gave a greedy pull and drew her even closer, barely finishing the first before he was kissing her deeply again. She paused for a moment after he pulled away. Basking in it before opening her eyes and cautiously waiting for what would follow. But he didn't pull away. Not like last time. He remained so close that she could have easily reached up and kissed him again. She met his eyes and she smiled, a silent acknowledgment of the moment that had passed between the two of them, or a promise to start fresh.

She was happier than she could ever remember feeling. She didn't want it to end. She closed her eyes, taking in the bliss and storing it up within her, letting it erase their last encounter. With a sigh she laid her head against his shoulder, her nose brushing his lips as she moved, and let her arms wrap around him. Felling him do the same, holding her tight against him, she felt like she could cry. This was her new favorite spot. Better than her bedroom at her father's castle, better than the armchair by the fire, and far better than the one warm corner in her padded room. She felt like she belonged here. She fit so perfectly against him it was like she had been made just for him and he for her. This was how that wretched first kiss should have ended. This was perfection.


	39. New Life

They arrived right back to where they had started. After what had happened at the well they had swiftly made their way back into the little town and now she stood once more in front of the building she'd arrived at before she'd gotten her memories back: "Mr. Gold Pawnbroker." He unlocked the door and led her back inside. "You, uh," he closed the door behind them leaving the world outside. "You wait here Belle, I'm going to find you something to wear." She smiled at the thought. Real clothes. A real dress, something to make her feel more like herself and not an old lady that sold bread crumbs to feed the birds. She was so grateful she could burst. "You've spent enough time in these rags," he said it like he meant it to be a joke but she could hear the smallest hint of disgust in his voice.

She knew that while she was able to convince him not to go after The Evil Queen she couldn't convince him not to be upset with the woman. After all she couldn't help but be upset herself. But no matter how upset she was, how angry, she didn't want him to go after her. That would be an act of revenge, not self defense, and no one won in situations like that. Besides, she knew that he wouldn't be able not to brag about how she was back at his side. And she wasn't sure that she was ready for the Queen to know that she was free just yet. Maybe in all the confusion, she would be able to get a few weeks of peace before she found out, and that was all she needed. Time. Time to adjust to a new life, a new world, this new relationship, and yes, even new clothes.

"Thank you!" She nodded as he walked back through the shop and past the curtain that she had walked though earlier. It seemed strange. Had it only been a few hours ago that she was here without any memory of who she was? Of who he was?! It didn't seem like a day had passed, it seemed like a lifetime had gone by. But the moving sun outside the shop told her that it was in fact only one day. She sighed as she clutched the measly coat around her and took a few absent minded steps in no particular direction. She could hear him rummaging around in the back, looking for the clothing, and took a deep swallow. Things were different now. That kiss, the way he held her hand, every touch, even the way that he had looked at her told her that things were far more different between them than when they had been in that castle. Then she couldn't expect to know things. She hadn't wanted to bother him. Now she wanted nothing more than to know everything, and spend long hours talking to him.

She took another glance around the room she was in. It was a strange place really, glass cases, a rowboat in the ceiling, even a babies mobile hanging low. "What is this place?" she called out, still trying to find her voice. Years of silence made her throat sore when she spoke. But the only way to change that was to get used to talking again.

He reappeared to her from behind the curtain, a smile on his face and gestured that she should follow him into the back room again. "It's a pawn shop."

She shook her head as she passed by him, "What is that, exactly?"

"I deal in antiques." He explained walking to the table she had seen him at before. She felt stupid, like he had learned a foreign language and she was still trying to catch up. Fortunately he seemed to catch on to her ignorance and explained further "I deal in trading objects for money, loans, other forms of collateral, that sort of thing."

She nodded, feeling like a man named Rip Van Winkle that she had once met. It was like she'd gone to sleep and the whole world had changed as she dreamed. Or rather, had a nightmare, really. In a way she supposed the world had changed. Except for him, there was something familiar about the way that he conducted his business that made her smile. "Still making deals, Rumpelstiltskin."

He looked over the top of her head and around the back room, "yes, well," he looked back at her and sighed "Some things never change."

She took a timid step forward, still testing the waters of whatever this was, and grabbed his hand. "Something's do" she muttered, when he didn't pull it back.

The words made him smile, and he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her close to him leaving a quick kiss on the top of her head. All that time she'd spent away from him, she'd come to realize that not being around a person's true love was unnatural, which meant, that being with him was the opposite. It felt real, and right, and, yes, very natural being in his arms. But that didn't stop her from thinking that she might never get used to it. She hoped not, she never wanted it to feel like any less of a miracle. The dark beast was tender and gentle, who would have guessed that?

He released her suddenly and gazed down at her. "It's been a long time, since I've had anyone close to me," he whispered, almost afraid that the world would be able to hear them through the walls. "But those that have been close have called me Rumple." It felt like her jaw would break from the amount of smiling that she was doing. She'd heard the name before. A couple of people that she had overhead making deals with him at the castle had called him that. She'd even called him that in her mind and out loud once or twice, but never to his face. She hadn't been brave enough for that. But she liked it. It was less of a mouthful. And she liked that he asked her to call him that. She liked that even more. It felt like she was being given a key to a secret treasure. It was more intimate, gentler in a way.

"Rumple," he nodded as the word passed by her lips. This was what she'd always hoped they'd be like in secret. It was like a dream come true. With a final smile and a light rubbing of her arm, he hobbled over to a small space in a cabinet.

"Everything you'll need will be in here." He tapped the cane against a drawer. "I'm sorry to have to say, but with the curse broken there is an errand that I must run."

Her heart dropped into her stomach, shocked "You're leaving!" She didn't want to be left alone, not on her own, not with the Evil Queen lurking about, and especially not so quickly after they'd been reunited. "I'll come with you," she said eagerly. She'd stay in the gown if they had to leave now just so long as they weren't parted again.

"No, Belle," he held out his hands stopping her advance. "Stay here. Change. It'll only take me a couple of hours and I'll be back." Only a couple of hours?! The whole world could change in a couple of hours? The whole world had changed from only a couple of hours ago! She wanted to be with him. She never wanted to leave his side. It was the safest place in the world.

"The Queen?" she asked, trying to stop her heart from hammering against her rib cage. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again; ever feel like she could be away from him without fearing that she would come after her. She felt safer with him. He had vowed to protect her only a little while ago, would he really leave her in danger again?

Rumple shook his head at her "She probably doesn't even know you're gone," he assured her. "And with the curse broken I'm sure the town will keep her plenty busy," he smiled then, like he might know something that she didn't. Whatever it was she didn't like that smile, it made her uneasy. But then, just as quickly as it had come it vanished from his face and he took those steps closer to her, placing a hand against her shoulder. His eyes were suddenly somber "You'll be safer here. The town has their memory back, magic has returned, and chaos will ensue," he explained.

The words sparked a million questions into her head. Had everyone else been living in the same crazy fog that she had been? No, they couldn't have. She hadn't been functioning, but he seemed to have been given the expertise to…pawnbroke? Was that even a word? Why had he been given new memories and she hadn't? And where were they to begin with? She strained her memories, they all blended together, and she had the sense that she had been in that padded room for a long time, but it felt like barely a year had passed. The last thing she could remember, before being here, before being in the room…the ceiling. She could remember a groaning coming from the endless ceiling above her and what sounded like a crack of lightening before the roof came apart in shingles. She'd screamed and dove under her bed for protection from the debris that never fell and then…nothing. Literally. She'd opened her eyes on a bed in a padded cell with no memory of who she was or how she got there.

He took another step closer to her, and rested his hand against her upper arm, like he had before. She had the feeling that he'd wanted to touch her for a while, maybe while they had been living at the castle, but had kept his distance. Now it was like any moment that they were spent together without touching was a waste, it was a privilege that he couldn't pass up for even a second. "It is safer for you to keep to the shadows," he whispered to her. "At least until things settle down," he added. She nodded, that part made sense. She was where she belonged for now. Her father could wait, for now she had him, and she trusted his words more than she'd ever trusted anything in her life. Everything was different now. She could see it in his eyes, and feel it in his touch. He had to go somewhere, but he didn't want to leave her either.

"You'll stay safe?" she asked, her eye brows raised, expecting a certain answer. Whatever he had to do, she was certain that it was important, certain that it had to be done now. He wouldn't part them for anything that wasn't. She had interrupted all of his plans when she burst in this morning, didn't have time to plan for her being here in his life, and she had to give him an allowance for that. So long as he realized that she was expecting him to come back to her, to brave whatever world might be outside those doors quickly and safely and return to her. She knew nothing of this world, and he was her only chance. "You'll be as fast as you can?"

He nodded and with a sigh she placed her arms around his body, snuggling against him like she had by that well, finding the spot she'd decided she like best. If being held captive and losing her memories had been the cost, she would gladly pay it again for this opportunity to make her way back to him, to be right here, to be able to say the words "I love you," muffled against the strange coat that he wore.

Just to hear him say "I love you too," into her hair while his arms were wrapped tightly around her as well. He pulled away and looked down at her, before sighing. "I will return quickly," he assured her before turning quickly and leaving her in the little room.


	40. Familiar and Unfamiliar

As soon as he left the shop she felt an itch at her neck from the scratchy coat she'd been wearing. She'd be more than happy to get it off. So she turned and looked at the drawer he had indicated with his cane and pulled it open. It was good to know at least the furniture worked the same in this world. Inside she found everything she needed, shoes, a dress, even new under things. She had a moment of thankfulness that the nurses in that wretched place had at least given her enough leeway that she knew how to dress herself in clothes from this world. A hospital gown was not much but it was close enough to a dress that it counted.

Happily she began peeling off the layers of ignorant mindlessness she'd lived in. The white shoes, the thick stockings that kept her warm when she wasn't allowed a blanket, the scratchy jacket that the man named Jefferson had given her, and finally the shapeless hospital gown. She didn't really need the under garments, the ones she wore now would do, but in the back of her mind she had a happy vision of burning everything she'd had in that small room, and so she peeled them off as well. The one's he had pointed out to her fit just was well, clean, and new. The dress he had given her wasn't shapeless, and it wasn't like the dresses that she had worn in their world. But it was wonderful. It was shorter, easier to move in, but covered her appropriately. It was thinner too, and kept the heat at bay since it revealed her shoulders and hung only to her knees. She hadn't been given stockings but she found she really didn't care and slid the shoes on over her feet any way. She would be taller in them, not taller than him, just a bit more than before, but she liked them. She felt as new was the life around her. She took a step forward and found herself over compensating on shaky legs. The heel on them was skinnier than anything she'd ever worn. She would need a little practice, but fortunately she had all the space she needed.

She managed to carry herself out into the main room of the pawn shop and looked at the cases and items littered all around her. The small shop that she had once seen as strange and unfamiliar now seemed to fit him and his personality just like the clothes that he wore. If living in the castle had taught her anything it was that he liked to keep anything he came across, and he kept it in mild chaos. She doubted if anyone could find something they were really looking for in here. Except for him of course, he probably knew where everything was down to the last mouse.

She looked around, noticing that the clutter really was everywhere, the glass cases, the walls, even the rafters! There above her head was the sailboat. She also located the beautiful child's mobile she'd seen earlier. This time she was able to take its beauty in completely, the tiny glass animals twinkling in the dying sun light, it threw little rainbows of color across the room in various patterns, painting even the dullest corners of the shop with brightness. How had such a beautiful item, crafted with love and care managed to find its way into this place? With a smile she turned from the object trying to find something else to hold her interest while she waited for him to return.

Her eyes met with a familiar sight. Those two horrible dolls that she'd cleaned a million times. She'd never liked them. They always sent shivers down her spine and made her feel like she was trapped inside a ghost house, or something far worse. And being alone in a strange place with them wasn't helping that feeling now. She didn't know why they were here, or how he'd gotten them in the first place, but she really didn't care. She could ignore them so long as she didn't have to look at them or have to clean the dust off their shocked little faces ever again.

She turned away from them, happy for any distraction, and found that they weren't the only thing she recognized. Now that she looked closer she could also see a painting that had sat in one of the upstairs rooms, a strange bell that he'd kept in her library, and even a set of silver utensils she'd used to serve dinner. She quietly noted that these items didn't seem to have the sign "for sale" on them. It appeared that he was just as protective of his "things" here as he had been there.

Suddenly the light from outside seemed to go down drastically and a howling wind picked up outside. With curiosity she walked up to the door and glanced out the windows. It was nothing. The sun had just sunk low enough to be blacked out by the building across from the shop and a gust of wind was blowing leaves into the street. Was it just a change of weather or was this what happened every night when the sun went down? Was this world dangerous at night?

Night. Was that how long she'd been here? How long he'd been gone? She sighed as she moved away from the window, moving her hands up and down her arms nervously chasing the memory of the cold nights she'd spent out of her bones. Leaving the big room, and the strange wooden dolls, she walked into the back room he had left her in. It was just as cluttered, but she could tell that he spent more of his time back here. The front room was controlled chaos; this room was a work in progress kind of chaos. Tables held strange sticks, open bottles of smelly solutions, and separate areas for various items that looked like they all somehow fit together but had been taken apart for whatever reason. The only way she could describe it was that it looked like bunches of projects that someone had started at different times and never finished.

One the far side of the room, on top of a shelf, she saw something she recognized, not from his castle, although there had been one there too. The spherical object, a globe, was normal in their world. A map of all the lands. With a smile she pulled it off the shelf and looked it over. It was a globe alright. Blue for water, yellow for land, but the lands that were scattered across its surface were different. Odd shapes and geographical regions she didn't recognize. She looked closer at the words written across the various lands, bumps for mountainous areas, and seas and lakes. None of them sounded familiar. Where had they ended up? Where were they now? Russia? England? South Africa?

A little bell that she was becoming accustomed to announcing a presence in the pawn shop chimed and her head flew up to the curtain and her heart began to race. Friend or Foe? Rumpelstiltskin or Evil Queen. Behind her she saw the back door she'd spotted earlier and slowly moved toward it, wishing that the shoes she was wearing didn't click with every step, but at the door she was ready to run if whoever walked through that door prompted it. Her heart clunked in the throat as she looked at the shadow that pulled back the curtain.

Rumple.

"Hey," he whispered, his eyes raking down her body "Well, now don't you look lovely," he smiled at her. It was a compliment but instead of feeling flattered she was still trying to get control of her body. She was safe now. That small fact was going to take some time getting used to. "Belle," he looked worried and confused, like he couldn't understand why she hadn't responded and why she was having this reaction to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. Thank you," her words were a jumbled mess, she couldn't decide which comment to respond to first so her mind had just answered them all at once. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, dulling her other senses so that she could smell only him. It was comforting. "Thank you," she said beginning again, slower this time "Nothing is wrong, I'm perfectly fine."

But at her words he moved around the table and closer to her. "No, I don't think you are," he grabbed the hand hanging by her side. "What's wrong," he asked again, his eyes boring into her own, it made her feel like he was trying to read her mind.

"You just," she shook her head. He just scared her half to death when she didn't know who had come into the room. She couldn't say that, he was angry enough at the Evil Queen as it was, this might truly send him over the edge and she didn't know if a feeble promise would be able to hold him back then. "You startled me, is all," she explained away. "It's nothing, you're back now, everything is fine," she smiled at him. He looked back at her like he didn't believe her. She didn't want to risk him finding out. They really were together again and it was a silly thing to have to think about, to create problems for them. "Do you have something to drink?" she asked him, searching for a change of subject, "maybe, maybe something to eat?"

He gave a small snort and a smirk, like he knew what she was doing. But instead of forcing her to tell him he took a step away from her. "I have nothing to eat. Not in the shop. And unfortunately it seems that Granny's and most of the town is closed at the moment," he had a grandmother? No, she couldn't have heard that right. Why would a Grandmothers place be "open"? The wind blew against the door behind her, distracting her again as it seemed to be becoming more and more violent by the moment. "But I can make us a cup of tea," he offered with a smile. Tea, there was something that she recognized! And after nothing but water for what felt like centuries, the change would be welcome.

"That sounds wonderful," she smiled.


	41. Broken Promises

He excused himself to the front of the shop and she could hear the clanking and clattering of china. She didn't know where he was going to get the water, or the heat to make the tea, but she was sure he would, and that was enough for her. The sounds of him working out there were comforting to her. It was proof of another, friendly body somewhere, and the fact that he was that body, made her feel safer than she'd felt in a long time.

He had left her in the back again and she once again returned to looking around at the strange objects that she saw before her. A tan one caught her eye this time. It was sitting on the desk. She walked over to it and reached her hand down onto the strangely smooth and cool but unfamiliar material it had been made with. It had numbers on it, written in a strange circular pattern. She picked the handle of the thing up to examine it closer and found that the handle hadn't been attached properly, it popped off the part sitting on the desk and she heard an unnatural noise she hadn't expected come from it. In her surprise, she dropped the object. It's strange rope didn't keep it from smacking the ground with enough force to bring Rumpelstiltskin back into the room in a hurry. "I, I didn't mean to break it!" she said pointing at it, helping him to quickly identify the noise. She stepped far away from it, she didn't want to damage it any more than she already had.

"You didn't," he muttered stepping forward and picking the fallen handle off the floor. He held it to his ear then set it back on top of the other half, just like it had been before. The strange noise stopped. "It's a telephone," he explained, facing her again with a gentle smile, all trace of panic gone from his face. "It's quite a remarkable device really. They help you communicate with people over long distances." She looked back at the object, the telephone, she still didn't know how it worked but the concept sounded inspired. Still it looked rather simple for the job it had been created to do. And frankly it was funny looking.

"It, it uh, it looks like a, uh," she swallowed, trying to find the right words that wouldn't make her sound as ignorant as she felt "silly upside-down hat," she smirked, the strange rope swaying against the side of the table catching her eye "with a strange curly tail," she added, knowing she probably sounded foolish any way. But she couldn't think of any other way to describe the object. It looked like nothing she'd ever seen before.

He looked at it, his head cocked to one side "Yes, I suppose it does," he said softly with a returning smile. It was enough to make her blush, and not just with foolish embarrassment. She knew so little about this world, it didn't seem possible to learn it all. He seemed to sense her thoughts and glanced down at the object. "Everyone in town has a number of seven digets, simply pick up the receiver, tell the phone which number you want, place this part to your ear, the other to your mouth, and you can talk to anyone at any time," he explained. It was a remarkable concept, she wanted to know more about how it worked, but instead he opened his mouth and informed her "I'm afraid I need one more moment," before striding back out the curtain.

"Take your time!" she replied. "I'll be careful," she muttered to herself, with a glance at the telephone. Not wanting to have another incident like before, she turned her attention back to something she knew: the globe with unfamiliar lands that she'd been examining before he'd returned. She spun it around on its strangely tilted axis, watching the colors blur together into a green shade before she stopped it with the tip of her finger. "Bern." Could they be in Bern?

With a flap of the curtain he stepped back into the room with her, offering another gentle, but surprised, smile. It was an acknowledgement of the strange predicament they found themselves in. Having him in the room felt right, it made her feel complete, but at the same time she felt nervous. She didn't know how to act around him now. Habit told her to keep her distance, but her body seemed to want the opposite. Where was the line now? She wasn't his caretaker. He wasn't her master. She wasn't lower than him anymore, they were equals in a different kind of relationship, and neither seemed to know how to act within that relationship. Then again, it wasn't just him, it was this entire land. It was all new to her, and she didn't know how to act here either. She sighed and placed her hand along the curve of the globe. She just wanted to know something with certainty again. Just one thing, anything, so that she didn't feel completely incompetent here. "Ah, where are we?" she asked gesturing towards the globe. "On here, I mean."

He made his way over and stopped beside her, though she wasn't looking she could feel him there, her subconscious hyper sensitive to his every move. He hung the cane on the small shelf space by its handle and she felt one of his hands rest gently on the small of her back. She hoped he couldn't see the red she felt rising in her cheeks, or the way he made her smile just by being close, it made her feel like she was twelve again instead of a grown woman. "We are in the town of Storybrooke," he said softly spinning the globe and pointing to a place on it. "In the state of Maine, in the country of the United States of America, the continent of North America, on the planet Earth," he had pointed out, or outlined each place as he mentioned them one by one, finally spinning the globe around and blurring the colors on the last one.

Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America, North America, Earth. She could remember that, and knowing it made her feel better already. But she didn't want to leave from this spot, didn't want his hand to move from that place on her back. "Is it a big Kingdom?" she asked.

"Country," he corrected, stopping the globe and turning it back to the place he was talking about.

"Country," she repeated. "Is it a big country?"

"Bigger than some, smaller than others," he said mysteriously. "But this is a different world. Size does not decide power here," she glanced over her shoulder at him, remembering what he had said about magic and power at that well.

"What does, then?" she asked "determine power," but at that moment a loud whistle sounded from the outer room growing steadily louder by the second, and he excused himself quickly again.

She hadn't thought about it until this moment, she'd done her best to put that earlier comment about magic and power out of her head, not wanting to believe it. He was different now, the Rumpelstiltskin she knew hadn't wanted her, hadn't kissed her like he had at the well, hadn't gently touched her, or used words that tenderly. He was different now, he had to be. In the room she could hear the fumbling of china again. She'd ask him again when he came back in. He'd tell her this time, because now they had more time, now they were equals, now they could tell each other everything.

The bell that automatically sent shivers up and down her body chimed. She didn't panic like she had last time, but she did hold her breath and strain her ears, listening for anything that might tell her there was danger, and wondering what she would do if there was. There was a loud click on the floor, like the kind that her shoes had produced but with much more force. Someone else was here with them.

"What can I do for you?" she heard him ask, with irritation in his voice. She couldn't see who was in the room, but something about their presence made him uncomfortable. What else would cause him to use that voice.

"What you can do is tell us what you did," a woman whispered harshly. It was so quiet she could barely make out the words, but she felt relief race through her body, she didn't recognize the voice. She didn't know who it was, but she did know that it wasn't the Evil Queen. She moved closer to the curtain, curious about what was happening, feeling braver knowing that she wasn't in immediate danger.

"I'm sorry you're going to have to be more specific."

"You know damn well what we're talking about," a man shouted, his voice also unfamiliar.

"You double crossed Emma," another woman's voice added, "You, uh, took you're, ah, potion from her," she said struggling to find the words.

"And did who knows what to this town," the man chimed in again.

"Worst of all you risked Henry's life," she first woman muttered in a furious whisper.

A couple of the voices sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place them. Who were these people? Why were they making these accusations against him? Because that's what they were. Accusations. They weren't true, they couldn't be, he was different now. Wasn't he?

"Well that is quite a litany of grievances, now isn't it?" she knew that voice. It was the voice he used when he felt threatened, when he felt like he needed to do some threatening of his own.

"Maybe I don't need answers, maybe I just need to punch you in the face!" the first woman responded. She was still quiet, but she heard her angry voice morph into fury as she said the words. She felt her stomach turn. Was she going to do it? Would she hurt him? Should she go out there or just stay put? She almost stepped through the curtain when his words from earlier rang clear in her head: "keep to the shadows." He was right. They might not know she was here, they were making threats against him, clearly they weren't friends. The last thing she needed was for them to work for the Queen, spot her, and tell her she was free. She should stay hidden.

"Oh!" he laughed at the threat, "Really dearie!" it sounded odd, that voice, those words, listening to him do business in another room. If she didn't know any better she would have thought it was years ago, and she was right back to where she had started with him. "Allow me to answer your questions with some of my own. Alright? Did your dear boy Henry survive?"

"Yeah," she heard the woman whisper.

"Is the curse broken? And let's see here, Miss Swan, how long have you been searching for your parents? Looks like you're reunited," the iron fist that had been clenching her stomach suddenly loosened slightly. He was innocent, it really had been just accusations after all. "Seems like rather a punch in the face, I deserve a thank you."

"Twist my words all you want," the woman, Miss Swan, said a little more powerfully this time, but the anger was still clear in her voice. "What was the purple haze you brought?"

"You know, magic," he said a hint of the voice he used to hide his old self shinning through.

"Why," the second woman breathed. She held her breath, wanting the answer as much as they did.

"Not telling," he spat back at her. Suddenly a terrible crash rocked the shop and for a moment she thought she might stumble through the curtain and be revealed, but she was able to grab the door frame before she fell. Was this a normal occurrence in this town? In Storybrooke? On Earth? She'd never felt anything like this in the asylum but then again she'd never been able to see much in that basement prison. There were strange sounds, like bells and whistles only more mechanical coming from the world outside the walls of the shop. What was happening?

"What the hell was that?" Miss Swan asked, she heard a scuffling of feet and she prayed they weren't coming for the curtain. There was a loud frightening cry outside. It sounded human, but it also sounded animalistic, full of anguish, and hate. What was that? What kind of creatures and animals haunted this land when the sun went down?

"That," Rumpelstiltskin said calmly "is my gift to you." His voice scared her, it was menacing, angry, it was the voice he had used when talking about Robin Hood. It was the voice of revenge. "That is going to take care of Regina," she felt her jaw drop and another, though lesser, shockwave rocked the shop again.

Take care of Regina? As in the Evil Queen? Hadn't he promised he wouldn't do anything to Regina? Hadn't he promised to stay with her? Suddenly she understood everything that happened since she'd gotten her memory back, since he'd left her in the shop to run "errands". He'd chosen wrong again. Instead of staying with her, instead of just being with her, he had left her side and sent someone, something, after the Evil Queen. She felt tears gather in her eyes as her chin began to tremble. He couldn't keep his promise, couldn't stay with her, hadn't been able to resist the pull of magic and revenge. He'd fallen back into his old habits without a second thought, instead of jumping into the new life that he had promised her they would have. He'd lied.

"Emma!" she second woman yelled over the noise outside. "Come on!"

"We need to go take care of this," the man insisted.

Take care of it. They were going to stop it. She didn't know who the man and woman were, but this other woman, Emma Swan, the three of them were going to pick up his mess. They would try to make good from the bad that he'd created. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Not to them or to her!

"We're not done," she heard Emma whisper to him after a moment.

"Oh, I know," he answered "You still owe me a favor," he whispered back to her harshly. Her stomach turned, Emma had made a deal with him. His deal making hadn't changed either, instead of just being restricted to his business, as he'd explained earlier, he had continued making deals for his own profit. Whether he called them favors or not made no difference to her. She saw it for what it was. In fact, she suddenly felt like she could see everything clearer and brighter.

She clutched her hand to her mouth. She felt betrayed, alone, even abused. How could she have fallen for this again? She'd always been able to tell when he was lying to her, how had she missed this earlier? He had to have been planning it from the very beginning. Had she lost her ability to read him like she used to? Where did this leave them now? He'd lied! And suddenly she didn't feel like the shop was big enough to contain everything that she was feeling. She had to leave, she had to get out of here, away from him, before he could break her heart anymore than he already had.


	42. Twisting Words

She had to leave. She couldn't bear to stay in this shop one more second. It seemed to be getting smaller and smaller by the second, there was just not enough space for her, him, and all of his lies and secrets.

After a moment she heard the click of heels across the floor and the twinkle of the bell over the door as it opened, letting the sounds from the world outside leak into the room for a moment before it slammed closed again. Whoever those people had been, they were gone now. She breathed deep and removed the hand from her mouth, still reeling from the conversation she'd overheard.

How could this have happened again? How could this have happened again so quickly?! They'd had a second chance, a moment to do it all over again and history had repeated itself. No. Worse. Last time he'd been lying to himself as well. This time he'd lied to her. He'd broken their deal. He'd promised he wouldn't kill the queen and he'd left her side the second he could to summon whatever was outside of the small shop, whatever was responsible for the strange change of weather.

He had been busy, he had done so much that he had done wrong in their brief period he'd done together: bringing back magic, stealing a potion, sending someone or something out to kill the Queen, it all made her angry. But there was only one thing that he had done that took away her hope. He'd lied to her, and that was what she couldn't stand. She had to leave, and she was going to, but she wouldn't walk out the back door, or sneak away like she had been the one to do something wrong. And besides, she had to know, had to hear it for herself first before she left. Was there a chance that she had misunderstood the conversation? Of course. But she doubted it.

And so with trembling hands she pulled back the curtain and looked at him hunched over the tea set. She half expected to see the gold skin and reptilian eyes that she remembered from before. But it was just him. And that scared her more than anything. Was it the curse that had invaded his heart, as she had once assumed, or was it just the kind of person he was? What else but a curse could so motivate a person to be that deceitful? Oh, how she hoped that she had just misinterpreted the conversation!

"Hey," he whispered when he spotted her standing there. Her heart fell. She could still read him like he was an open book. That look on his face, the way he was glancing at her, even the timid murmuring of a single word. She hadn't misinterpreted the conversation. And what was more: he knew. He knew that she had heard every word of the conversation; she could see that plain as day written on his face. He was watching her, gauging her reaction, waiting for her to say something first. Wasn't he even going to apologize? Wasn't he even going to try and explain his actions?

"You lied to me," she accused. No, not accused. To accuse would be to assume something. This wasn't an assumption. This was a fact.

"No, I, I kept my word," he was lying again. She'd heard the entire truth, he knew that she'd heard the entire truth and he was still choosing to lie to her! "_I_ will not kill her," he said with a nasty smirk on his face. He stood with his back straight, saying the words like he was proud of them. It was as if he was proud of the fact that he'd come up with a way to harm the Evil Queen without breaking their deal, like he was expecting her to be just as impressed by that as he was. But it wasn't something to be proud of.

"No," she whispered to herself. It was the same thing! Call it twisting words, call it misdirection. Both were lies in her eyes. How could he think that it was different? "You toy with words," she pointed out sadly, tears beginning to swim in her eyes. Whether he killed her himself or summoned some beast or cast some spell to do the deed for him it was still the same thing. He would still be killing the Evil Queen, in an act of revenge for what had happened to her. Revenge was just a fancy word that people used to ease their guilt when they did something wrong. And she wouldn't have him or anyone commit such an act in her name. She couldn't even be sure if he would have commit the act solely because of what had happened to her. She knew that the woman hadn't earned the nickname "The Evil Queen" because she was kind, who knew how many other slights she had committed against him, how many times she had tried to steal his power, to make him weak, to take away his happiness. No, she might not have been the only reason he had wanted to kill her, but she knew that she would have been his excuse. He would have used her in that unfathomable way, and it made her chest hurt just thinking about the act.

"Like you do people," she muttered, surprised at the conclusion she had finally arrived at. And that was the worst of it. He'd treated her just like he would have treated anyone else that she made a deal with, fashioning it into something that he could benefit from far more than she would have. He'd treated her like he would have anyone else. She wasn't just "people". She shouldn't just be another person that he could control or manipulate into getting exactly what he wanted. She should be more than that. He should have listened to her. The things that she said should be important to him and hold far more weight than that of anyone else on this planet. If he loved her as he'd claimed, he wouldn't have treated her as ordinary.

What if she hadn't heard that conversation? What if they hadn't stopped by tonight? Had he really thought that he could just keep this from her? Would he ever have told her? What would he have expected then? Did he expect her to not be upset with him to just be ok with what he had done? If he thought that she would have no problem with it, that she would say "well, since you're not putting your hands on her then its fine," and they could go about their evening as if nothing had changed, he was wrong. Utterly, and completely, wrong. It was like someone had reached inside her chest, grabbed her heart, and was squeezing it tightly.

Never again would she let something like this happen to her. She couldn't be ignorant. It felt good to be with him but if every other day was going to be a day of heart wrenching secrets she didn't think she could bear it. She didn't know if she was strong enough. It was just as bad if not worse than when he had dismissed her. He, clearly, wasn't ready to share his life with her. Not the way she wanted him to be, not the way that they would need to be. "You're still a man who makes wrong choices," she knew the words were true the moment that they'd left her mouth.

He glanced away from her, his face finally looking guilty, but even then she could tell that it wasn't guilt for what he had done, but guilt for not being careful. The only thing he regretted was the fact that she had found out. Guilt because he couldn't change, because he would never even try. The realization was unsettling, it shattered every good thought that she'd had since she'd gotten herself back on that hill, since he'd kissed her, since he'd arrived back here with her. How could she have been so blind as to think that things would have been different? "I thought you'd changed," she admitted sadly, more to herself than to him.

He gave a small snort, like she had just said the stupidest thing in the world, "What? In the hour you've known me?" her jaw dropped, she couldn't keep the tears back, and she couldn't stay here anymore. She couldn't share this same space with him. Not if that was how he saw everything they'd been through to get back to each other. Not if that was how he was going to so easily dismiss everything she had been through in her attempts to get back to him. She moved around him as quickly as she could, catching a small glimpse at his falling face as she went. "Belle," he called after her, "I, I'm sorry. Belle, I'm sorry" she looked back at him, her hand on the door, the bell chiming as she opened it. "I am," he said.

But she knew that look, and she couldn't subject herself to this anymore. And so she took a step out into the windy night, closed the door behind her, and with a blurry look back at him through the window, she forced her legs to take those steps. And move on.


	43. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

She folded her arms against her chest to keep the chill of the wind away from her skin, not used to being exposed to naturally cool air. Her legs seemed to move of their own accord, taking her down streets that she didn't know, avoiding the loud shouts and cries of other people as they took shelter from the weather or tried to find their loved ones. She wouldn't call it crying, but there were tears forming in her eyes in a constant stream, no matter how many times she wiped her eyes, she just couldn't stop the water from falling. And so she had given up, and just let them come, falling off at her chin and littering the path she walked like small drops of rain.

He was right; they had spent maybe a grand total of one hour together since she had been freed and the curse broken. But she knew him better than that, and was insulted that he didn't see it either. That one hour couldn't make up or repair the countless hours that they'd spent together in the castle. It couldn't erase everything that she'd seen him do, everything that she'd heard him do.

He'd let her down. Again and then again. She should have seen it earlier. Even after she had come back to him when she was ignorant and without her memories he had still taken her up that mountain to the well. When her memories had come back he had stopped their reunion to bring magic into the world. How could she have been so stupid to think that he would have changed? That he would be any different from the person he was when he had last told her that his power meant more to him than she did. She really should have seen it earlier.

A gust of wind picked up and blew her hair around her face, goose bumps rose over her skin. There was a strange cry that carried over the wind and though she didn't know what it was she had the urge to take shelter from it. She found a small alley between two doors where the wind couldn't reach her and the air was strangely still. The loud screeching cry was getting closer and she turned her head to look out the alley to see a massive black shape flying through the air. She held her breath and tried to be as still as she possibly could be. But it flew right past her hiding spot. It didn't pay her any heed. She couldn't even be sure that it had seen her or even heard her. But she was certain that it hadn't been following her. Whatever that…thing was, she was certain that it was the thing he had summoned. That was the creature that was going to kill the Evil Queen, if it hadn't already. And if it had how long was it going to be here? Would it settle only with killing the Queen or would it continue to go on its spree after tonight? Who would dispatch of it if it remained? Had he even thought about that? Thought about the consequences of his actions or how many other people would have to pay before he got what he wanted? Did he ever?

Certain that the creature had moved on her legs folded underneath of her and she sat on the ground, her head leaning against the brick wall behind her. No, he hadn't thought about it because he never did! He only thought about himself, about what he wanted. A person was only important so long as they were what he wanted, the second they ceased to be useful they no longer mattered to him. Her tears had started to fall again and she brought her legs up to her chest, cradling her head against her knees.

Another cry came from the direction she had seen the creature drift off to and this time she heard a long bang and distinctly human scream. She couldn't think about what that meant, about what the black figure could be doing to an innocent person, or the Evil Queen. This was all her fault. She should never have let him go. She should have begged him to stay with her at the shop, she should have refused to tell him what had happened to her, she should have run away on that mountain! She couldn't pinpoint the moment that it had gone wrong, when it all seemed like it had just been the opportunity that she had been waiting for all along. In the time that they'd been apart she had changed, she'd gone after the Yaoguai and realized that it was nothing compared to being with him. Hadn't he made the same realization?

No, he hadn't gotten too.

She couldn't be certain about where he thought that she had been, they hadn't gotten around to talking about it, but from the words that he'd used earlier from the anger that he had for the Queen it wasn't hard to assume. He'd thought she was dead. There was only one person that would have been able to pass that word on to him with the confidence that she would never come back…the Queen. She'd tried to get her to kiss him so that the curse would be broken, so he'd be weak. Had she told him that she was dead hoping for the same results? Thinking that if that hadn't worked then maybe the knowledge that he'd let her go and she'd died might in some way make him more vulnerable?

What must that be like? What must it be like to be told that your other half was dead? That they were gone and there was no hope they'd ever come back? The only thing that had kept her from going insane all that time the Queen held her prisoner was the knowledge that he was out there somewhere. And she imagined that the only thing that made her life in the asylum tolerable was that she didn't know who he was.

She was the only one that probably had ever seen him as more than the Dark One, the only one that saw him as more than just someone who was cursed, that was why she had chosen to go back to him after the Yaoguai incident in the first place. She'd wanted to help him change, to help him realize that he could be different. How could she have expected him to change when she'd never made it back to him? How could she have expected him to change when he thought she was dead?

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before pillowing her chin against her arms. His words from their argument rang clear in her ears. She hadn't been thinking, she had just been acting on the pure emotion that she'd felt then. He'd apologized as she was walking out, but it hadn't been sincere. It had been desperate and confused. The apology was said in an effort to keep her there, to keep her close by. He had just said the thing that he thought that she wanted to hear. It was a good guess, an apology was what she needed to hear, but he didn't even know what he was apologizing for so how could it have been true?

What did she want him to apologize for? She'd never heard the words before, they'd never come out of his mouth in their time together. And there was so much that she needed to hear them for. For throwing her in that dungeon when he'd first brought her to the castle. For torturing that poor man, Robin Hood, and then dragging her out with him while he'd hunted him. For yelling at her when she'd gone against his wishes. For tossing her back in the dungeon after she'd bravely declared her love for him. For undoing the broken curse, for the words that he'd said at that the store, for everything…for kissing her like he had at the well, for giving her hope and then taking it all away with one simple sentence.

Then again.

Words were never his strong point. Words were something that he was good at when it came to deals for the same reason that she pointed out to him earlier, he could toy with them. He could manipulate others expertly and design the loopholes that he needed but that no one else would ever think of. But when the words were about himself, when it came to talking about what he was feeling, and what he was thinking, he failed miserably. He hid behind those same clever words, using jokes to change the subject and giving vague illusions to let people come to their own conclusions.

"In the hour you've known me?" She had taken the phrase to heart, been insulted by it, but now that it was replaying over and over in her head she could hear what it really was. It had been a joke, it had been an attempt to protect himself in a tense situation. Had they been back in the castle, had she only have been his maid, she wouldn't have thought anything of the comment. Had her own emotions not been so overwhelming she would have seen it for what it was.

He made her vulnerable, but she made him vulnerable as well. And she doubted anyone had ever had that power over him before she came along. A smile hovered over her lips, threatening to expose a single thought. He was smart, he was calm, cool, collected, he knew everything, had an answer for question, he was always put together…and she undid him. She turned him on his head. She chased the beast within him away and brought out the man. And that man had no idea how to handle being exposed like that.

Another gust of wind blew, echoing down the ally in deep hallow moan. But the cold air never reached her in this space. Her mind traveled back to the castle, to the times that she'd spent in a dungeon colder than this, to a time when she had learned not to trust what he said, but to trust his expressions. That was the very first lesson she had learned with him.

Words were never his strong point, but it was his actions that again and again continued to speak louder than those words. He'd locked her up and then released her. He'd dragged her after Robin Hood and then let the man go. He'd broken a promise he'd made to her, he'd gone back on their deal, and he'd apologized.

And yes the words had been empty, but the action had been full. He hadn't meant the apology, but he'd been willing to give it. He'd been willing to try if it meant keeping her by his side, not losing her again. He hadn't changed, but he hadn't had the reason to change. She had changed, she'd had a reason to. In her old life she would have just given up and gone back to her father's palace, but Mulan had taught her something important. She had to fight for what was important, what was worth it. She had to fight for what she wanted.

She wanted him.

She still wanted him. Everything he'd done everything he'd said and she still wanted him. She wanted the man. Not the monster who would give her empty words and broken promises. She wanted the man that showed her he loved her, that did anything to make her happy after he'd done something wrong, and would try to change just to give her what she wanted. That man was worth fighting for. That man was worth knowing for more than an hour. It was going to take work, hard work, to transform him from the beast back into the man that only she had seen. But he was worth the fight.

He hadn't changed when she was gone. He wouldn't change if she left him now. Her life wouldn't be happier, it would be spent worrying about him constantly and wondering what he was doing, and where he was, and what they could have been if they'd taken every opportunity that a second chance like this offered them.

She was going back.

She knew it even before she picked herself up off the ground. She didn't know when her mind had decided, maybe it never had. Maybe it always knew that once the violent aftermath of their words and fights had past, she would always calmly and determinedly make her way back to him. And maybe that action alone, would do more than any word she could ever say to him.


	44. Worry and Hope

She stood outside of his shop, looking in on the gentle yellow glow it emit into the dark night. She didn't see him in there, and the sign said "closed", but the lights were on and she couldn't see into the back room. And besides, she just didn't think that he would leave. At least, she hoped he hadn't left her alone in this strange little town. Even with her abrupt departure she didn't think he would. But, as he had pointed out to her, she hadn't known him that long...

She shook the spiteful thought from her head. It wouldn't help the situation if she only ever remembered the things that he said when he was trying to make a silly joke to protect himself. And besides, in her head she could see the look in his face as she'd walked out the door. Failure, devastation, and regret, he really hadn't meant it when he said he was sorry. But he'd given her the words at least. She tried to focus on that fact, with Rumpelstiltskin she had to take what she could get from him moment by moment. She'd forgotten that, being so far away from him for so long. But she wouldn't again.

She took a deep breath and walked into the store as another gust of wind lifted her hair and chilled her neck. She went straight to the back of the store and pushed back the curtain as she cleared her throat, and met his eyes in an awkward moment of silence. He was spinning. It was almost comical. Maybe it didn't matter if it had only been a few hours, with the exception of his appearance, it seemed like nothing had changed. And that was what worried her the most about her decision to come back.

"Hi" she sighed, for the express purpose of starting somewhere.

"Hey," he muttered back, putting down the wool and staring at her like he was surprised he had seen her again, maybe he really had thought she wouldn't return.

"I, uh, went for a long walk," she informed him, explaining away her long absence. Not that she had to, but if she wanted him to be honest with her, then she would repay him in the same way. It had to begin somewhere, why not now with her?

"I thought you didn't want to see me."

"I didn't" she stated sadly, because she knew it was true. There was a time that she would have given anything to see him again, and yet she had walked out again. "But," she paused, trying to find the words, trying to remember that she was here now, that she'd come back. They were together and if they were willing to try that was all that mattered. "I was worried," she admitted this reluctantly, knowing that it would probably always be true, but it was important for him to know. Everything he had said to her, and she still loved him. That's what people who loved each other did, they worried. And right now the only hope that she had for them was the worry that she could see on his face too. It was more like panic. He truly didn't know what she was going to do, and that seemed to scare him in a way. It only made her happier.

"Well the beast is gone. Regina," he paused and for a moment her stomach flipped with fear for his next words "lives." She was relieved to hear the word. But she was even more surprised at the look on his face. He looked confused, shocked really, that his plan had failed, like he'd never experienced a time in this life when he hadn't gotten his way, for all she knew, maybe he hadn't.

"So, uh, you didn't get what you wanted." She let out a breath; she was disappointed at his answer. Knowing everything was ok was important to her, but if he thought that it was all she was worried about, well they had a longer way to go than she thought.

"Well that remains to be seen," he whispered, the question written all over his face. She looked him up and down, happiness and hope flooding through her. He hadn't said the words, but she'd learned that there was more meaning in what he didn't say than what he did. He needed her to answer that question, which meant he had made a choice between her and revenge. Maybe they didn't have as far to go after all. Now she just needed to figure out how to tell him that they would be ok.

Her eyes roamed the shop, like they might find the words she needed, but before they got far she caught a flash of something behind him. White glass? No. Porcelain, with blue on the side and the trim, and a chip on the edge! She knew that chip. A lump caught in her throat as she reached around him to grab it. All other thoughts were suspended as she held it in her hands once more. It was hers after all.

"You, uh," she giggled a little "you kept it" she said trying to hold back tears as she looked at the precious object. He nodded, finally smiling as he watched her with it "my chipped cup." She took a deep breath as she felt that she couldn't contain her joy at seeing something familiar any longer. She'd had nothing. And nothing since she left her father's palace and began this long journey had truly felt like her own, except for this little cup. Seeing it, here, with him, was the best thing she could have asked for. She'd never known him to be sentimental, and yet it was her precious object that she appeared to be comforting himself with after her departure.

Before she lost control of her emotions completely he stood and took the delicate item from her hands, gently holding it between them, aware of how close he stood to her again. That, too, had to be a step in the right direction. "There are many many things in this shop. But this," he glanced down at it lovingly then back up at her with the same expression "this is the only thing I truly cherish."

Her eyes watered at the words. He'd been told she was dead, she knew that. She also knew from the way she had reacted to her presence in the store that morning that he'd kept his memories, otherwise he wouldn't have recognized her. His reaction had seemed to confirm what she had always believed: she had meant more to him than his power maybe he just didn't know it yet. She didn't know how long she'd been in that room, with no memory of him or their brief life together, but certainly it had been easier than the years that he had spent thinking she was dead, with nothing but a chipped cup as a memory. This was all the hope she needed, she knew she'd made the right choice in coming back.

"And now you must leave," the words shocked her, seeming to come out of nowhere.

"What?!" she shook her head, utterly confused. She had to run them through her mind one more time to make sure she had heard them right. She had, and they made her feel like she had been hit over the head. He was giving her up, again! She wanted to move forward with him, not backward, constantly convincing him that he wanted her around wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"You must leave because despite what you hope," he paused. Trying to find the words, perhaps? "I am still a monster," he finally breathed. She still hated that word, but this time she found herself smiling at his words. At least this time he wasn't trying to convince her she was less than his power, or doubting her ability to love him. This time he was taking the blame on himself, and giving her the warning to leave so he couldn't hurt her again. While she still hated the thought of him thinking of himself in that way she still believed in the good inside him, it was shining through now.

She should run, history could repeat itself, lightning could strike the same place twice, but she found her feet staying firmly planted to the ground before him. If she left, what would that prove to him? What would it mean for her, she had tried to live on her own without him, and it hadn't turned out so well. She was better when she was with him. And he was better when she was by his side, even in the simplest way, even in the most distant of relationships. Who knew what they could do when they were really and truly together. They hadn't gotten to even try last time, and she wouldn't spend the rest of her life wondering. She smirked as she looked back at him, no less strong or weak than he was in his other form, and yet the beauty she'd seen before was still there. If she had helped him see once, she could do it again.

She shook her head and snorted at herself for the undertaking, knowing this wasn't going to be easy, but it was exactly what she needed to do, she could feel it. She put her hands on his shoulders and gave him the brightest smile she could muster. "Don't you see?" she asked him, but his face only looked surprised that she had reached out to touch him again. "That's exactly the reason I have to stay." She shrugged very matter-of-factly as he just stared past her. A look of shocked panic on his face, like he could face anything the world threw at him, but the thought of her! It terrified him. In a way she knew it was a good sign. This was scary, it was suppose to be, that was one of the layers that went to loving somebody. But so long as she got to be the one he experienced it with, she knew he would be ok.

She broke his gaze by taking a couple of steps and closing the distance between them. Careful not to damage the delicate cup between them, she put her arms around his neck and found that spot that she discovered earlier by the well. The place she fit so perfectly against him that it seemed like he'd been made for her. She hoped that he felt the same way against her, she wanted him to feel like he belonged with her, no matter what. She was willing to try. She wanted to know he was too.

Finally, after what seemed like forever of waiting, she felt his arms wrap around her, the lip of the cup pressed into her back as he continued to hold it. She smiled, the shock had finally worn off and it was going to be ok. They would work it out. It would take time, but they would get there.

When she finally opened her eyes she caught a glimpse of a small bed, similar to the one she'd had in her dungeon, hidden away in the corner. The sight confused her and she pulled away and directed his attention to it.

"Does that mean you live here?" he glanced at it and back at her.

"No," he said gently, still holding her. "No, I have a home."

She smiled and raised her eye brows and realized the wind was finally dying down, and the world was returning to normal, forgetting the visit from the strange creature never meant for it. It had been a long day. "Can we go home then?" He continued to stare at her, to the point that she really wanted the look of surprise to go away, didn't he know her better than that. Suddenly he reached up and touched her cheek and rubbed a few strands of her hair between his fingers. He looked like he was memorizing her face, maybe he was.

"Please?" she asked. There was nothing he needed to fear. She was ready to go with him; she was ready to start life with him again. She was ready to prove that he wasn't dreaming, and that when he woke up tomorrow morning, she'd still be there. She covered his hand with her own and turned her face to kiss the palm of that hand.

He still looked amazed at her, but after a stunned moment passed he nodded, "yes." She smiled and reached up to kiss him again. Second time that day, but kiss number three, and she couldn't wait until the day she realized that she had lost count.


	45. Boundaries, Comforts, and Future Days

He took them home in a thing he called a car. It was faster than a carriage but seemed to perform the same function: to get from point A to point B. It was more comfortable, however, there were no open windows, no stray breezes, and it was far smoother. He pulled up to a large house, not as large as his castle had been, but it was still big compared to the tiny shop. He unlocked the wooden door and flipped something that brought light into the room's dark space. It was beautiful. It might not seem so, with all the clutter around it, and empty picture frames, even a wooden horse with a pole through its center against one wall, but it was his. And if it was his then it was home. It was warm in the hallway, she slipped the suit coat he'd lent her off her shoulders and he took it, hanging it on the banister, before moving to the window and sliding it up, letting cool night air into the house.

"I don't have air conditioning, but it rarely gets warm enough to be a problem." He rambled, almost nervously, avoiding her gaze as he opened all the windows in sight. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked returning to where he had left her in the hallway. The thought made her smile.

"You cook?" he gave her a smile in return.

"Quite well actually," another reminder of just how different things were since the last time they had been together. They still had so much to learn "When I have an excuse to," he admitted almost regretfully. She wasn't sure what to make of his last words, she couldn't tell what kind of life he'd had here. He lived alone, but the cot she'd seen in his shop meant something, and she couldn't help but wonder if he slept at that shop so he didn't have to come back to a lonely house night after night. Whatever the reason, it was different now. They were together again, and she had to keep telling herself that it was all going to be ok.

She bit her lip and nodded, "something to eat would be great." He nodded and turned, before turning back to face her again with a second thought.

"You'll want to get cleaned up," she jumped at the thought. It was true she was wearing a new dress and out of the hospital gown, but she did feel like she could use a brush, and a bath. "Ah," he looked antsy, like he didn't know what to make of her being in his home again, like he didn't know where to put her now that the line between caretaker and employer had been crossed. "Up this way," he said finally. He led her up the stairs and into an open hallway, just as filled with objects as the first floor was. Then he opened a door and led her into a room that was surprisingly clean and for the most part, clutter free. The small bed was made, the nightstands dusted and decorated with clocks, a telephone, this one red, and candles. Even some that lit up, when he touched a strange knob on the wall.

"You're room?" he nodded, looking around the small space. It reminded her of his quarters in the castle: comfortable but not luxurious and devoid of any personal objects. Then again maybe it was the lack of personal objects that reminded her of him. He moved around her to another door, once it was lit up she could see that it was a bathroom. It was something familiar, items that she knew she could work because she had used these before in the makeshift mindless prison the Evil Queen had kept her in. Nevertheless he pulled back the shower curtain and pointed his cane at the knobs explaining how to use it. It worked the same way the others had, only this time she had an option of blessedly warm water, she supposed it was something that was universal.

"Take all the time you need, I'll be downstairs when you're ready." He walked swiftly out of the tiny room closing the door behind him. She shook her head as she stared at the door he'd disappeared through. He was nervous, nervous at having her close again, nervous at having her closer than she ever had been. It had been a big adjustment for him when she had come to stay with at the castle before. But then there had been boundaries, admittedly flexible boundaries that had bent and broken over time. But this, this was going to take some time, she didn't even know what rules there were to something like this, if any existed. And creating them wasn't something she wanted him to do.

She showered quickly, washing off the residue of the filthy padded cell and the dirt from the forest, and working the tangles out of her hair. When she was finished she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. On the sink she found a hairbrush, that she could have sworn was not there before. She brushed her hair out and glanced into the mirror, at least this one was uncovered, and realized that she was finally beginning to look like herself again. She left the bathroom walking into the empty bedroom, wondering what to do next. Just when she was about to reach back into the bathroom for the dress she had been wearing, she noticed one of the drawers on the dresser was open. It hadn't been before. When she peered in she found clothes. Dresses, undergarments, and even a gown that was thinner than the others, meant for sleeping.

She took a moment to finger through the other items in the draw. He'd taken care of her. Everything she needed was in here. It made her smile. It would take time, but it felt like she already had space in this strange land, like she'd been here forever. It would make this strange transition easier. With a smirk she slipped the sleeping gown on over her head and it fell to the floor at a perfect height around her ankles. In the warm house the small straps and cool material made her feel more comfortable. And she tied her hair up off her shoulders to keep it from getting in the way.

Content, clean, and dressed she left the room and retraced their original steps back downstairs then followed the noises until she found him in the area that passed for a kitchen. It was far different than the kitchens she had memories of, but that was alright, she would learn. She planted herself in a chair by a table that was similar to the one they'd shared at the castle. But instead of sitting on her side she sat at the chair to the right of his seat, daring to break one of their previous unspoken rules. He glanced up and smiled at her as he came in before returning to whatever was cooking. There was no fire involved but something was cooking in the pan. After a minute he set a plate of yellow before her. Scrambled eggs.

"It's quick, you seem tired, and I'm sorry I don't have much food in the house," he rambled "I'll remedy that in the morning."

"It's perfect," she interrupted with a smile. It was going to be more than perfect. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night sleep. A mattress of plastic and foam with no pillows or blankets made for uncomfortable nights and no past to think of made for restless nights. And compared to the terrible food she'd been getting, something as simple as scrambled eggs was a feast. They ate their meal in silence, like they always had, but to be honest, she didn't mind this time. She was so hungry that she couldn't think of anything but the food being shoveled into her mouth and the new tastes of the different spices. Simple as it was, he really could cook. New surprises seemed to abound in this new world.

When they were done she instinctively took their plates away and set them in the shiny silver sink, one of the few things she recognized. Bigger than the one in the bathroom but cleaner than the one in the hospital, it wasn't exactly a trough but as she thought it through she knew there were far more advantages to a sink than a trough to wash dishes. But before she could turn on the water he reached for her hand, and she startled. She hadn't heard him walk up behind her. "You don't have to do that. Not here. Not ever again." He insisted, recognizing the same look of regret on his face that he'd worn earlier. Regret for what? How he'd treated her before, at his castle? She hoped not. She'd never gotten to tell him how at home she had felt there, or just how free. She never did tell him how much more she enjoyed living with him and being his caretaker rather than a princess in her fathers palace. One day she would, one day she would tell him everything, one day he would tell her everything and they'd have no secrets. But now was not that day. It was going to take time to work through their lifetimes.

"I don't mind." She muttered turning on the water and rinsing them clean, if she was going to stay here she was not going to sit around doing nothing, she might not know much about this strange land but she wasn't hopeless, she was capable of learning and of helping. When she shut off the water and stepped away he smirked and took her place. He opened a strange cabinet and slid out a special looking rack that he slid the dishes into before replacing them again.

"It's a dishwasher," he commented at her look of questioning "it's a common convenience in this land," she nodded. Then watched as he turned the water back on again and rinsed out the sink, making it sparkle again before flipping up another knob on the wall close by. She expected another magic candle to burst to life, what she got was a loud grinding noise that made the sink visibly vibrate. She gasped at the noise and found herself pressed up against the counter trying to get as far away from it as she could, hands pressed to her mouth in shock. She hadn't expected that. At the sight he touched the knob again so that it pointed downwards and the grinding ceased. It appeared the knob controlled the noise. "I'm sorry," he apologized frantically "I didn't realize."

She felt her cheeks redden. There was more to this world than she knew. "I just, I just didn't expect…" she shook her head at the thoughts. She wasn't sure what to expect from this world, honestly. "What is that?" she asked, hoping that if she knew what it did and could name it, then it would somehow help.

"Garbage disposal," he answered dutifully turning back to the sink. "Keeps the sink clean and the trash from smelling of rot," he sighed "turn the water on, and flip this switch here." He demonstrated the action and irritating grinding sound came back for a brief moment before he turned it off again. "And never put your hand down the drain while it's running," he added insistently.

She doubted very much that would ever be a problem. She looked for a moment around the room with strange objects. "Dishwasher." "Garbage Disposal." "Switch." The words meant nothing to her. Maybe she had more to learn than she thought "I have a lot to catch up on," she muttered trying to hide her ignorance.

"We'll get there" she smiled at his words. It wasn't the encouragement she liked, it was the word he had used. He'd said 'we'. "You look exhausted," he mentioned again. She nodded. Again. It had been a long curse followed by what felt like an even longer day. "You should go to bed, get some rest," he whispered. Bed did sound like a lovely idea, sleep even more so. "I'll, I'll, sleep on the couch," he stuttered.

She furrowed her brow and shook her head, "The couch?"

"It's a…"

"I know what a couch is! We have those in our land." She pointed out probably a little too defensively. She thought back to the glimpse of the furniture she'd gotten earlier, thinking of the items and debris around it "you don't have any other beds?!" Surely in a house this big he had a room for others. Unless...her mind stumbled onto the sad thought. Surely there was room for others…unless no one ever came to stay. His silence only seemed to confirm her assumptions, and her heart melted at the thought of how long he'd been alone, without her, without his son. She planned to put a stop to that. As she glanced up at him she knew he had been thinking the same thing she had figured out on her own. She stepped forward and rested her hand against the ones he placed on his cane; something else she would one day learn was why he needed it.

"We've shared the same space before," she said thinking back to that carriage they had shared when he'd taken her into the forest after a thief. "We can do it again." He didn't meet her eyes. Instead he chose to focus on a spot on the wall just over the top of her head. She didn't see it as a problem. People shared beds and rooms all the time in their world, didn't they here? In fact one of her hand maidens had once told her that she shared a small room and bed with four of her sisters. Surely they could manage two people. And it would be far more comfortable for the both of them than one of them having to endure a stiff dusty couch. It was just another boundary, albeit, a big one she hadn't expected to cross so soon, but it was just sleep. Maybe they had to push those lines and boundaries. Maybe in order to become comfortable with each other, they first had to make themselves uncomfortable.


	46. Beyond Flaws

Before he could fight her she gave his hand a tug and led him back up to the little room he'd taken her to for a shower. His room. She flipped the switch she had seen before, now knowing the name for the strange knobs, and the candles came on instantly. She smiled proudly, she was a quick learner.

The upstairs was still hot, and she noticed that the windows up here were still closed. Heat rose, if they remained closed it would remain too warm. "I'll, uh, open the windows up," she slid the windows in his room up easily then left him standing there, a look of uncomfortable shock on his face as he looked around the bedroom like he'd never seen it before. She worked her way down the hallway, quickly stepping into each room and opening their windows before moving on to the next. He hadn't been lying. The other rooms in the house were just as littered as the downstairs rooms were. She let the heat back out into the world and made space for the cool air to come invade, making note as she returned back down the hall that it already seemed cooler, but tomorrow night she would have to check the draw of clothes she had found for a shorter night gown. Maybe one that reached her knees instead of her ankles.

And then she was there again: at the door to his bedroom. But before she entered the room she found herself leaning against the wall just outside as her heart suddenly began to pound anxiously. She had been so calm and sure a moment ago and now her nerves were on fire, but no more than his had appeared at her suggestion when she had left him there. It was silly. Maybe she should have just let him sleep on the couch; it probably would have been less nerve wracking than sharing such a confined space so quickly. Not to mention the type of space they were going to share.

She wasn't an idiot; she'd read books, she'd talked to her nurse about the subject, and heard the maids in her father's palace talk in hushed whispers about doing their "duty" as they'd called it. She knew what happened between men and women in situations like this. But that didn't necessarily mean it always happened, or that it had to right way. He wasn't Gaston. She knew that if this was their world and she had still been a princess she would have had no choice in the matter with him. She would have been used as livestock, for breeding purposes only. The very though made her stomach churn.

She chased the images away from her mind with a sigh. It was different here. She knew that he wouldn't use her for anything she didn't want. She trusted him. She shouldn't after everything that had happened today. And yet through all that she knew, when it came to this particular subject, she trusted him. He'd pointed out that she was tired, he would respect her wishes to sleep. Wouldn't he? Slowly she peered back inside the room. The lights were out. He was on the far side of the bed, facing away from her, practically clinging to the edge. She smiled at the sight. Yes, she trusted him.

Gathering her courage she entered the room and shut the door behind her, an old habit, and went into the bathroom. She let her hair loose brushed through it so she wouldn't have to sleep with a knot against her head, and she found a pink toothbrush, that hadn't been there earlier when she'd had her shower. Teeth clean, hair brushed, lids fighting to stay open she walked out into the room and slid between the fine blankets onto a soft supportive mattress that had a real pillow for her head. It was heavenly.

This wasn't how she thought her day would go when she'd awoken in her padded cell that morning. Freedom granted, memories restored, true love by her side, it was the most comfortable spot in the world. But a glance over at him and she realized he was right where she had left him, resting on the edge, shoulders tense. She was content, but it was obvious he was not, and she felt bad, causing him this amount of discomfort. Some how she knew that it wouldn't pass, that she wouldn't be able to truly relax, unless she let him know that everything was ok.

So she reached for his arm which, despite the heat, was covered in long satin sleeves of his own sleeping clothes. He responded, rolling over onto his back at her touch, his expression questioning. "Good-night" she whispered staring down at him, before naturally bending over to kiss him one more time. Kiss number four, but she felt like she'd been doing it for her entire life. She was surprised by the hand suddenly on the back of her neck and the small peck of a kiss that followed. Number five.

They stared for a while, neither really sure how to move on from this spot. But suddenly the idea of sleep fled from her mind, replaced by the thought of trust. She did the only thing that felt right given the situation and bent down again, another kiss passed between them, this one more a gentle rubbing of lips compared to the other five. Number six. He pulled away from her with a sigh, gently pushing the hair that fell over her shoulder behind her ear. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered in a voice that was more begging, like the very thought of hurting her in any way tortured him. She didn't want to upset him, so she rested her forehead against his own, getting a certain sense of calm just from being close to him.

"You won't," she muttered, shocked at the words that came out of her mouth. She was actually going to encourage this?! Hadn't she just convinced herself only moments ago that she didn't want this to happen yet! But she found that just because she hadn't meant to say them, didn't mean that she didn't believe them. She'd been hurt enough in her life, in this relationship, even. Nothing he could ever do would hurt her like that again. And she had the strangest feeling that he wouldn't hurt her again, not like before, not after today. She'd warned him that he would regret letting her go, half hoping he would half hoping she was wrong and he wouldn't. She knew he had, he wouldn't let history repeat itself, and she felt suddenly sure of what was passing between them in the silent space. "You can't," she concluded, a fact that she firmly believed. No pain, physical, emotional, or otherwise could ever compare to that.

Her words seemed to break his restraint. He kissed her again. Once, then twice, and again and again, deeper and more passionate each time. And she didn't stop it, with each kiss the voice in her head that told her to roll over and go to sleep got dimmer and dimmer, until it was gone completely when she felt herself being pushed back and the touch of his hands along her neck, arms, sides, then her hip. Places that no one in her life but those she loved had ever touched. But this was a different type of touch, it wasn't the hip to hip bump her nurse had once given her with a laugh, or the one armed hug her father had given her the day her grandmother died, and it was far different than the time Gaston had covered her sleeveless arms with his jacket against the cold. It was a different type of touch for a different type of love: gentle and soft, tender and loving, wanting and needing, giving and receiving all at the same time. She didn't want him to stop, not until he knew every curve, every line, and every bit of her body just as if it was his own. Maybe it was. She certainly didn't feel like she belonged to herself right now. And she somehow felt like his body was an extension of her own. They weren't individuals any more, just a single being.

He had been married before; she knew that single fact and nothing more. She didn't know how it had ended, or how often he had done this, or if he might have loved her at one point, and she had to stop herself from thinking about it. She didn't want to think about that, not now, later there would be time to learn. She didn't want to think about where Gaston was or where her father was living in this small town. The space was perfect for two but too small for any others. She only wanted to think about him, his hands, and the lips that were kissing hers, her neck, her collar, everywhere. The bed gave a groan and a small creek as their weight shifted again.

She wasn't prepared. She'd read hundreds of books, overheard dozens of maids and servants, had talked with her nurse and her grandmother about the duties of being a Queen and what it meant to a Kingdom and a King, and still she felt unprepared for this moment. She didn't know that her heart would beat so fast that it felt like it was going to push out of her chest, or so loud she really thought he would hear it. She didn't know that she would lose her breath like she'd been running miles at a time without a break. She wasn't prepared for the waves of emotions, feelings, and sensations that wound up her body like snakes then burst like a firework in her head. It was distracting, she was so busy thinking about it that she didn't notice the light sleeping gown had been pushed up her body, over her head, and lay forgotten, in every sense of the word, on the floor. Or that her fingers had been unbuttoning and shoving without her brain ever having told them to do so. She had no idea what she was doing, but thankfully it appeared her body did.

Suddenly she let out a small gasp as something she had never felt pushed against her...into her. He stilled immediately at the noise and she looked up at him, fear in his eyes as he looked back at her. She shook her head trying to correct what he thought, and managed to move her spaghetti arms up to stroke the soft graying hair that had fallen around his eyes. "Just surprised," she tried to explain, to find the words to tell him it didn't hurt, it was just shocking. "I wasn't expecting…" her voice trailed off as she realized she couldn't find the words, it didn't hurt, not the way she thought it would. It just felt different, in a good way, though. But watching him stare at her with panic and concern was making the moment more awkward than she was willing to let it be. When she thought back on this moment she wanted the word "perfect" to come to mind, so she lifted her head and went back to kissing him, startled when she realized that she didn't just want it, she felt like she needed his lips on hers. Her kiss seemed to break the spell and her silly sound and feeble explanation were blissfully forgotten.

They moved together perfectly in a dance that she had never learned but knew expertly. He didn't say much. He didn't tell her how beautiful she was, or how much he loved her, instead if he said anything it was her name, or darling, or sweetheart, words that she never thought she would hear pass from his lips, words she didn't even think he knew until today, but it was the perfect thing to say. She didn't want him to tell her she was beautiful. Maybe that was why they understood each other. They were both judged for what people saw on the outside, and not for what was on the inside. He seemed to understand, she always thought he had. She wasn't perfect, her beauty was her flaw. She didn't want people to look at her and see hair, eyes, and a smile, she wanted them to see the beauty she kept contained within. It was the beauty that he saw on the inside that had made him love her, and that was why she had fallen in love with him.

He kissed her for a long time when they were finished, maybe still trying to prove that it wasn't a dream he was going to wake up from any moment now. When he rolled them gently onto their sides he continued to hold her in a tight hug, one hand at her head and the other against her back, rubbing small shapes into her skin. She wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, before she dared glance up at him. His eyes were closed but she could tell he wasn't asleep. He looked different. There was a look on his face that she hadn't ever seen before, not even a flash of it: Peace. She knew it right away. It was too pure to be anything else. Did she do that? Did they? When she looked closer she could see wetness lining his eyes and had to swallow to keep herself from crying. She was beautiful to him, and he was beautiful to her. So, why would the two of them make anything less than beautiful?

Her mind was calm but her body failed her and felt like it had more energy than when she had been a child and ran endless circles around the castle before bed to disperse it. She felt too excited to sleep but to happy to move and do something about it. "What if I can't sleep?" she muttered looking up at him, suddenly aware they were sharing the same pillow as well. And to think they had worried about sharing a bed, it didn't seem to be a problem anymore, and she didn't think it ever would be again.

"You will" he muttered positively, tightening his grip on her. She liked it, she felt safe. But sleep! She felt too much for that right now. Her body was tingling, like she was an open nerve, except, instead of pain, every touch on her skin made her feel like she might start to explode all over again, painful in a different way.

"I feel like I'm going to combust," she argued back in a whisper, watching the smirk grow.

"It'll pass," he reassured her again, still a man of few words, some things would never change. She took a deep breath and basked in the sensations running through her, surprised she wasn't actually glowing. She could get addicted to a feeling like this.

"What if I don't want it too?" His smirk broke into a small smile, but still he didn't open his eyes. Instead he kissed her forehead, and then released her from the death grip rolling over onto his back again, with one arm still around her. She didn't mind, the last thing on earth she wanted was to stop touching him. So she made herself comfortable, placing her head against his chest and keeping an arm wrapped around his middle, clutching him like a stuffed bear she'd owned in her youth. He was better than any pillow or blanket. But still she felt him pull one of the blankets up over her bare shoulder, protecting her from the cooler night air.

"Just close your eyes," he told her, his hand trailing slowly up and down her back, soothing and relaxing, "it'll come." He murmured as she realized that her eye lids were getting heavy again. Her breathing and her heartbeat had begun to slow and the energy they'd created was beginning to release itself into the air around them.

"I love you," she muttered making herself so close to him she thought she might actually climb into his skin.

"And I love you," She heard him respond, the words rumbling within his chest. She smiled, thinking back on where the day had led them. Her final thought before sleep took her was that she had finally lost count of how many times they had kissed each other.


	47. Loving and Tender

The first thing she was conscious of was the fact that she was alone, and for a moment her mind played a trick on her, making her believe that the life in her head had all been part of a wonderful dream. But then the second thing was the blinding light touching her eye lids. Her padded room never let her awake to sunlight. She opened one eye and took stock of the world around her. The light was coming in from the windows which were now closed against the morning chill in the room, but it lit up the bedroom better than the strange candles had. She felt the smile break out over her face, as she looked around like it was the first time she was seeing it. She felt grateful, and relieved to wake up in such a beautiful place.

But then, having memories again didn't hurt that feeling either.

She had a life now. It was all there like it had never gone away, like she hadn't spent years questioning her own sanity. It was all there again! Her name was Belle. She loved a man named Rumpelstiltskin. She wasn't crazy and it wasn't a dream. They had been reunited. Last night had been better than anything she could ever have dreamt up. But that was last night, and now something was wrong.

It was morning, and he was gone. The blankets and sheets were a tangled mess thrown over her hastily, the space she had last seen him was empty, and the pillow he, they, had been using had several indentations and lumps in it. But no Rumpelstiltskin. She panicked and pushed herself up on her elbows, looking around for any sign of where he had gone, any sign of danger! There was nothing. Everything was put in order and she could hear no sounds, not in the bathroom, and not in the little sitting room she'd seen. Where had he gone?! Had someone taken him?! Had the Queen gotten her revenge?! Her heart was pounding and she was beginning to fear the worst when the door to his, their, bedroom opened and he appeared in the frame, smiling at her.

"Hey," he whispered that same greeting he'd used yesterday. Yesterday. She thought back to everything that had happened yesterday, overwhelmed. It seemed like such a long time since she woke up in her prison the day before. But the room, his appearance, the strange soreness that she felt as she moved, it all seemed to confirm it. It had been a long, emotional, twenty four hours. No wonder she had panicked so easily.

She sank back into the soft mattress and put her hands over her face with a sigh of relief. She didn't know why the sight of him brought tears to her eyes, but nevertheless there they were. Tears of happiness? Was it possible to cry tears of relief? What did it say about her if she always assumed the worst had happened? She wasn't an idiot, and she didn't live in a world of optimism. A person could not go through what she went through, being kidnapped, held as prisoner, committed and called crazy, without suffering some sort of after effects. The panic was leaving, and she had a terrible thought suddenly that maybe being in captivity was better. At least in captivity she would wake up with the hope of freedom. But in freedom, it appeared she would wake up with the fear of being held captive. And now that she had her memories, worrying about him came back to her just as naturally as blinking. Would she always feel this way? Was this what the rest of their life would be like? Terror at being parted again? Would they ever really have a normal life?!

"Belle?" she moved her hands off her eyes and saw him walking swiftly over to her, "Are you alright?" he asked with concern in his voice. The shame was he was smart, and could also put two and two together. He would know there was bound to be some repercussion from her time in the asylum, but she didn't want to show it. If she did, it would only make him angrier and that had been what got them in trouble yesterday.

She nodded, watching him sit down against her on the side of the bed, his cane perched between his knees. He reached out and moved the hand from her mouth before moving some of the hair out of her face. His movements were different around her now. Loving, almost tender. "I woke up and you were gone, I…" The words sounded ridiculous even as she was saying them "I was worried," she finished with a sigh. The closeness helped calm her, body and mind. She could feel him pressed lightly against her hip and it reminded her that it wasn't a hallucination, he was actually here, checking on her, and the look in his eyes wasn't just one of worry and concern, there was love there too. And it touched her heart in a way that banished all of the fear she had. No one had ever looked at her like that before. "What time is it?" she asked changing the subject.

"Early," he muttered, placing an arm on the other side of her. She looked him up and down, just now noticing that he was dressed in the same thing he had worn yesterday. No, not the same, the colors were different, but it was identical in every other way. She swallowed taking in the sight, realizing that there was nothing covering her but a single sheet. But she wasn't embarrassed, a fact that surprised her. She'd never thought she could ever be ok with something like what was happening now. Even when she'd read about it in her books she'd always blushed slightly and paged ahead to moments that weren't so intimate she thought the characters should have some privacy. Then there was the fact that she was brought up always to have her own bed chamber. Her nurse had explained how it would be her own space where no one would bother her. And no matter what duties she had, returning to it night after night would give her peace. It was advice that had comforted her when she thoughts she was to marry Gaston. Maybe there was a reason for that advice, but from where she was now, the things that she was feeling, it just seemed so impersonal. She didn't want that life, she didn't want to turn shamefully away from him, thinking so negatively of the feelings they'd created in each other, she wanted to embrace it, everything: him, their actions and emotions, and everything they did together.

"I'm so sorry. I have to be in town early and you were sleeping soundly. I didn't want to wake you," he whispered almost tragically. Now that he mentioned it, she did have a drowsy memory of him muttering her name and telling her that he had to get out of bed. She'd rolled over, releasing him, and gone back to sleep immediately, barely conscious of the action. He was still looking her over, nervously, perhaps making sure that she really was ok. "I was just coming to give you a final glance before I left for town."

She looked up at him, finally taking in the words that he was saying. "Town?"

"To open the shop," he explained.

She nodded, that made sense, he had to work she supposed. And no doubt he was just as curious to see how much had happened over night. Was the town putting itself back together? Were families and lovers reunited as they had been? What about her father? Could she find him too? "I'll come with you," she decided and made to move again but the way he sat next to her and placed his hand against her head held her firmly in place.

"No, no," he said shaking his head. "Stay here. There is no telling where Regina is lurking about and it'll be much safer for you in the house." Her heart beat against her chest at the thought of the Queen coming to find her and take her revenge, for escaping, for whatever Rumple had set against her last night, the reasons were numerous. What was she suppose to do if she came by while he was out? Certainly it would be safer with him instead of away from her.

"I want to come with you," she countered, reaching up and pushing back the slightly damp hair that had fallen free. It was a poor excuse, but at the heart of it, she really just wanted to touch him. To enjoy the feel of her skin against his and not having to watch him shrink from it, it was still new and it surprised her each and every time. She liked this. He was hers and she was his and she didn't need an excuse to touch him, not like others would. She felt special, she felt unique, and she didn't want to give a second of that up. "I want to see the town, I want to help."

He only shook his head again. "The town is not safe at the moment," he explained using the same words he had the day before. His voice was mellow and gentle but also desperate in a way. "People are confused and they are out for blood. This really is the safest place in the world right now." No doubt because he had set some kind of spell or enchantment over the residence, but it still worried her and she desperately wanted to go. Yet, even as they talked, she was also suddenly aware of how desperately tired she was. It made sense if it was early. The bed was warm and soft, a luxury she hadn't had in years, decades even, and it would be wonderful to just let it consume her as she fell back into peaceful slumber.

Her resolve must have shown on her face because he looked at her and sighed, "Stay here. Rest. Go back to sleep." Slowly, tenderly, he tucked the sheet in around her curves and pulled some of the blanket up over her, keeping her warm. He was tucking her in like a parent would a child, but she found she didn't mind. It was surprising. It was sweet, a word she never thought would ever suitably describe him. He didn't show this face to the world. She felt privileged, that she was the only one that might ever see this side of him. It made her feel loved, it was a feeling she had desperately wanted to feel since leaving the castle.

She did want to leave with him. She wanted to spend every spare moment that she had with him, but things were different now. She had an entire lifetime to spend with him. An entire lifetime of days when the town would be quiet and calm, when she would have energy, but for now she was tired, she was strangely sore, and she felt like she had no idea about this new world around her. As much as she wanted to explore, even she had to admit that it probably wasn't the best situation to learn in, or the most normal. The house was calm, and small. She could learn this place first, so that the larger world wasn't as intimidating when she ventured into it.

She nodded, giving into his request and freeing her arm to touch his cheek again, it seemed a crime not to when he was this close. But she wasn't going to let her curiosity go that quickly. "When the town is calmer?" she asked hopefully, making sure that she wasn't becoming a prisoner yet again. No matter the size or amount of luxury a prison was a prison, and she was tired of being held captive. She made a promise that she would never let that happen again; too much of her life had been wasted that way.

He looked at her and grabbed the hand she rested against him. With a smile he nodded. "When the town is put back together, less chaotic, we'll see every inch of it together," she smiled already feeling the excitement for the moment that day would come. Feeling assured she felt her eye lids grow heavy again. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon her mouth, setting the hand that had been in his hair comfortably over her chest, and finally pulling the comforter up to cover her completely. "I'll be back in a few hours for lunch," he promised "go back to sleep my darling Belle." She smiled at the name as she settled back into the soft bed and blankets and closed her eyes, losing her battle against sleep. The last thing that she felt was his lips against her forehead, sending her off into a deep sleep.


	48. Standing on Her Own

She woke up only an hour later, feeling for the first time since she left the castle really and truly rested. She was alone again, and the house was still and silent, but at least she didn't panic this time. The memory of talking to him just before he left for town was still at the forefront of her mind. He'd be back later. But for now she had the morning to herself, and hours ahead of her to explore this strange new world that she found herself in.

And this new life that she found herself in.

She'd forgotten the soreness that she'd felt earlier until she sat up and took stock of the rest of her. It seemed to be the only lasting effect from last night. She felt like herself again, the strange tingling she'd felt in the aftermath was gone, but she still felt heat race to her cheeks as she thought about the memories in her head. It was done. Her father would have been disappointed, and no doubt, when she managed to find him, he would be. If she ever saw Gaston again she imagined he might be shocked and repulsed as well. But she wasn't. It was everything and more she'd always wanted to believe that it could be. And sharing it with anyone but Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't have felt as wonderful or right, she was sure of that.

From outside the closed door she heard a clock strike nine and it brought her out of her thoughts. Her stomach grumbled, she needed a shower, and there was more to do in this place than just relive the memories of last night and day dream about the rest of her life. Timidly, trying not to make herself more uncomfortable than she already was, she slid out of the bed and collected the night gown from where it had fallen the night before. She waited for the water in the shower to warm and made the bed, feeling happy that she was just as capable of multitasking in this world just as she had in the other world. After, she had showered and put on a beautiful dress that looked like it was meant to be worn out and in the sun. Maybe she would sit outside today! But her stomach growled again, and she reminded herself that it needed to be taken care of first.

She was hungry, and hurried down into the kitchen where he had made her dinner yesterday. But one look around the room and her heart began to sink. Nothing but the table and cooking pans were familiar to her. Not the four coils organized in the square, not the strange silver box at the far side, and not the machine surrounding the pitcher that made it look more oval than pitcher. She made her way over to the coils and looked them over. There were knobs just below them with the words "low" and "high" written along with the numbers 1 through 9 written between the two words. Each knob had a small picture of four circles with a different one colored in. And then there were two others that were different. One of them had words like "Bake", "broil", and "keep warm". On the sixth knob numbers were written in intervals of fifty beginning with 150. What was this supposed to mean?

She sighed and turned her back to the object, only to have her body crash against something she hadn't noticed before. As she turned back she could see that there was a handle of some kind with a dishtowel draped over it. She placed her hand on it and gave a tug. With a heavy groan the handle gave way revealing that it was a door, and behind it was a large empty space with a metal rack inside. At the bottom of the strange object was yet another coil. She shut the door, it slammed unexpectedly, and she once again turned her back on the confusing object.

Maybe this was hopeless, maybe she should just wait until he got back to eat something. She folded her arms over her chest, feeling incompetent and stupid possibly for the first time in her life. If she understood correctly, he hadn't had to learn things like this, he had just been given the knowledge when he had been in his cursed state. But for whatever reason, she hadn't been given a cursed personality. She didn't have two lives in her head, just an endless punishment of nothing. What was worse, having two lifetimes, two people, sharing your head as he did, or having only one, but paying for that with years of mindless oblivion? Yesterday she thought she might have been lucky for that, but now with her stomach grumbling, she thought she might just have gotten the worst part of that deal.

She was just about to give up hope, to find something to do with herself for the morning that would take her mind off her hunger, when she looked over and saw a piece of paper laying on the table. She couldn't remember seeing it last night. Curiously she picked it up, smiling when she saw her name scrawled across the top. Her eyes skimmed the first few lines and she realized that he must have written it before he'd come up to check on her. Obviously he hadn't planned on finding her awake then.

_"Belle-_ _Forgive me. I had to depart early this morning. You were sleeping so soundly I couldn't bring myself to wake you._ _I am out on business, but I should be back just after noon to join you for lunch. I would prefer you not go out alone, as the town is much bigger than one might anticipate, but of course you are free to do so, should you wish. It is simply an advisement, neither a command nor request."_

She felt a rush of disappointment surge through her as she rubbed her hand down over her dress. She had chosen it to wear outside, but if he truly didn't want her to go outside then it was probably for a good reason. If The Evil Queen knew that she was here, the last thing that she wanted was to step into a dangerous town and wind up imprisoned again. It was ok. She'd wait until he came back to go outside, to go into town. It was probably better that way. Her stomach gave another grumble and she looked down at the note in her hands, in an attempt to distract herself.

_"Should you choose to remain indoors, there are several items around the house with which you may not be familiar. We will confront all of them in due time, but I hope to have covered the necessities here. I assume you will be hungry upon waking. I took the liberty of slicing you a bowl of plums. They are in the refrigerator: the large man-sized metal box next to the stove. Simply pull the handle (it will open towards you), and the bowl will be sitting on the second shelf from the top. Do not be alarmed: the air is much cooler inside. For this reason, please try to remember to shut the door once you have retrieved the fruit."_

She looked over at the silver box she had spotted earlier. It was hard to miss seeing as it was so big. She gave a tug on the handle with her free hand and the door gave way at her touch. "Refrigerator." It was remarkable. The air inside was incredibly cold. Whoever had invented something like this was a genius. No more salting food to keep them preserved. No more rooms full of smoked meats! Everything was in here: fresh milk, eggs, cream, and other items in various packaging, including on the second shelf a bowl of plums. Her favorite, had he remembered from when she served them regularly in the castle? She plucked one of the slices out of the bowl and placed it into her mouth. It was the taste of true freedom, she hadn't had one probably since she'd left his castle, and she'd lived on scraps or whatever was served to her in the prisons. Having them now, cool and fresh from this contraption, this refrigerator, she thought they might taste even better than she remembered.

She pulled the bowl out of the refrigerator and used her elbow to shut the door as he'd requested in the note, the air around the open door began to warm instantly. Genius. She set it down on the counter and popped another piece in her mouth. Then looked down again at the note in her hands, there was more.

"_On the counter next to the refrigerator is a smaller, metal show-box type contraption. You will see two slices of bread protruding through slits in the top. Push down on the lever so the bread disappears, wait one minute until it pops up, then remove it and place it on the plate I have set out. This box is a toaster. It has, accordingly, made you toast. DO NOT put your hands inside the slits in attempt to pull the bread out before it has reemerged. It is VERY HOT inside the toaster. You WILL burn yourself._ _Butter is on the dish by the sink". _

She looked to her right and saw another metal box just as he had described, and inside just as he had stated there was bread. The only reason she hadn't seen it earlier was because she had been distracted by the other hallow box. She found the lever that he had told her about and pushed down. The opening didn't close but the small silver tendrils of metal suddenly started to glow red hot and she could feel the heat coming out of the small area. "Toaster." This was much more convenient than working with a fire, much less messy as she wasn't working around soot as well. A glance back over at the sink that she had used yesterday and she saw the butter in a covered dish that he had laid out for her, knowing it wouldn't spoil in the cool house. This world was much easier to live in than the theirs. Much more comfortable.

She jumped as suddenly the bread popped out of the box…toaster, looking like heaven for as hungry as she was. A bit of butter and it tasted better than she remembered toast ever tasting in her life. Toast was something she'd received regularly since leaving the castle. But she was certain that it wasn't the toaster but merely the ability to make it herself that made it taste so good. This world was different, but it seemed far less complex than theirs. And yet as she looked around the house their world also seemed more simple too…although she couldn't quite understand her thoughts behind that idea. How could this world be both simple and complex at once? Her toast finished, still pushing pieces of plum into her mouth she set the plate in the sink and turned to the remainder of the note in her hand.

_Tea is in the cupboard over the butter. I take it you have not forgotten how to use a kettle. It has been filled with water._ She glanced up to see the kettle sitting on top of the strange coil machine that she had examined earlier. With her hand on the top she gave it a wiggle and it indeed was filled with water. Of course she hadn't forgotten how to use a kettle, what she didn't know how to use was the coil machine, although she assumed that it could probably heat the water. She turned her eyes back to the note, hoping for instructions to the object, and maybe a name, but found only the end of the letter. _Should you need me, for any reason, please call. I will be upset if you do not. I know we broached the subject yesterday, but a refresher: the telephone is the "silly red upside-down hat with a curly tail" (as you aptly described it), on the table to your right when you wake up. My number is taped to the top._ _I love you. I could not wait for lunch to tell you._ _Please do try to remember to shut the refrigerator._ _Yours, R._

She was disappointed that he hadn't offered more instructions, but it was impossible to be upset with his last words. Not the part about shutting the refrigerator, which she nervously checked right away, but the printed words of "_I love you" _and _ "yours" _she could hear those words, or see them in this case, any time. She sighed and folded the letter. She'd be keeping it, probably forever just because of those words.

She looked back over at the kettle, thinking about her task once again. She could call him. But it seemed like such a silly thing to call him about. Surely this couldn't be that hard, she just had to boil water…right? She examined the knobs that she had seen earlier and found the drawing that corresponded with the coil the kettle sat upon. She took a deep breath and turned the knob up to the "High" setting. It wasn't possible to burn water, but it might take too long if she set it on something other than "high". She didn't know how powerful the coils were or if it was possible to start a fire with them. She'd heard the phrase that suggested watching water boil was about as fun as watching grass grow but still she stared at the kettle, her mind filling with terrible thoughts and wondering what she would do if she set fire to his house, or if she had missed something that would be disastrous in the end. But instead she watched as the coil suddenly turned red, like what she had seen happening inside the toaster. She had the sense not to touch it and she could feel the heat coming off of it from where she stood but her eyes scanned the side of it making sure that nothing besides the metal kettle was touching it.

For a while nothing happened. Then she started to hear the slow whistle that came from the kettle. She eagerly turned the knob back to "off" and the red glow seemed to die down quickly. Still she didn't want to risk it and moved the kettle to one of the cooler unused coils. She looked in the cupboard over the butter, as he had told her and found a strange flexible box with the writing "Granny's Homebrew Tea" written across the top. She didn't know who this Granny was but she seemed to be important. She'd have to ask him about that later. She opened the box and realized that the tea was contained inside tiny thin bags. Once again it was a great convenience of this world. The tea would be able to soak through the bag without getting the dregs in the bottom. It was perfect. Now all she needed was a tea cup. It was probably a good thing he hadn't told her where to find them because it gave her a chance to open all the drawers, all the cupboards, to see where everything was stored and how. She found the cupboard in the same place that she found large glasses in. She smiled as she poured the hot water in and set the tea bag, finding a string to dangle it by, inside the cup and took her prize out into another room.

Clearing the clutter she sat down in a chair and let the sun touch her face as she sipped the tea from the cup and watched outside the window. This was a strange new world she found herself in. But sure as the drink she held in her hand she was going to figure out her place here and how it all worked. It was difficult now, especially since everyone seemed to have all this knowledge given to them without a second thought but she would get there. One morning she was going to wake up and find that she could stand on her own two feet again. And in the mean time, maybe there would be more cheerful, beautiful notes waiting for her until she did.


	49. Bits and Pieces

It was becoming abundantly clear that she needed something to do. He was always up and kissing her good-bye at first light, then she remained there for the morning, until he came home for lunch and disappeared again for hours at a time before coming back to her for dinner and a few precious hours before they could go to bed…and then another couple of hours before they could really go to bed.

The first few days were easy. She found herself falling asleep, feeling endlessly tired even though she hadn't actually done anything but spend the last twenty-eight years in a locked padded cell. When he continued to come home and find her asleep she finally told him of her constant exhaustion. He sighed, and she could see anger flicker behind his gaze before looking back at her and explaining that she had been on a lot of drugs in the asylum, something he didn't need to tell her twice to remember. He guessed that they were still working their way out of her system, and it might take another week or so to feel like she was herself again. But that couldn't happen. She was never going to be the person that she was when she lived in the castle again. Not after everything that had happened, not after all the bad and the good.

And so she forced herself to find things to do during the day, other than sleep. It wasn't hard at first. There was so much to learn, and she felt like she had to start from the beginning. But she liked doing it on her own, it was less embarrassing this way. The kitchen had posed the biggest problem, there were so many different contraptions and switches that did strange things. But it had given her something to be proud of every time he came home and she could show him everything that she had learned, and all he had to do was give her the proper name of the item she'd mastered.

But then she'd figured it out and was left with nothing to do in her free time. And she started to think that maybe it wouldn't be terrible if she forced herself to be a little bit like her old self. And she remembered the comfort and satisfaction she had once got from cleaning the castle, and how it had kept her busy during long days. So she turned to the cluttered house. It was large and expansive, and unlike she had suspected on her first night, all the rooms were fully furnished. He did have extra beds, but she wouldn't have wanted to sleep in one of them. All of the rooms were stocked full of debris, various items, and dusty beyond belief. It seemed like he had only ever been in these rooms to open windows at night and close them in the morning, and of course to toss more junk in them. The only rooms that showed signs of life were the kitchen and his bedroom and bathroom. There were a few chairs around the house that were less dusty and useable but the rest of the house showed signs of a man that lived alone and really didn't care about the state of the rest of it.

At first it seemed like a task to large for her to tackle, and she wasn't sure she needed to. But then she realized that this was her home now too, and after she had managed to clean a castle as big as he'd owned, this house was small in comparison. The house itself was really quite beautiful and grand. And if she could turn it into something else, clean out the rooms, create a good space, maybe she could turn it into something special. Somewhere he wouldn't mind coming home to, a place that she wouldn't mind spending time alone. Or maybe she could do better than that. Maybe they could change some of the spare bedrooms. Put a library in one, maybe a little home shop in another, a place to properly put the work he brought back with him, and sanitize one of them to be a room for guests. If she could put a little bit of her into it and a little bit of him then it wouldn't be Mr. Gold's house it would be their home.

The prospect excited her. It would be different than before, because they were different now. And besides, unlike everyone else in this town that might have been given houses, lives, and cherished belongings no matter how false they were, all she had to her name was a tea cup. Just staring at all of his clutter all day didn't make it feel like it was hers, it just reminded her that he had so much he could have clutter. Maybe if she spent time with it, developed some memories here, it would begin to feel like her clutter too.

She sighed as she looked around the living room, the first lost cause that she felt she had to bring back to life. She really did have nothing if she was looking forward to owning junk.

And so she began, piling the objects that she found into "fixable", "non-fixable", and "possibly fixable" when she didn't recognize the object. She had been hoping to clear the room enough that she would be able to sweep and dust before he came home but with every chime of the clock she realized that was an impossible expectation. She'd be lucky if she got the clutter sorted before she got to start working on dinner. And that was only if her body didn't betray her and force her to lie down for another nap.

She moved a large pillow off the couch…and her jaw dropped. She stared at the object and reached out timidly to pick it up, afraid it might be a hallucination that would disappear if she touched it. But it wasn't. The pillow was just as she remembered: soft and luxurious, tassels and all. It was dustier than she'd left it, but, still, here it was. It was just a pillow, but still she felt her heart beat as she looked at it with loving tears forming in her eyes.

Did he know that he had this here? She couldn't imagine that he did, she would have liked to imagine that he would have treated it with a bit more respect if he'd known, rather than just shoving it under another pillow. But then, was it possible that he didn't know the significance of it. He had conjured only a handful of things for her benefit while they'd been at the castle, this had been the first, she couldn't expect him to remember it or treasure it as he did the tea cup. She sat down on the couch and found herself hugging the pillow against herself like it was an old friend.

So many nights she'd spent in her dungeon, clutching the pillow to her chest for a small bit of comfort in those terrible days, before she had actually used it for what it was meant for and slept with it under her head. She placed her nose to the fine fabric and took a deep whiff of it. It smelled different, mustier, older, but there underneath it, faint but still there all the same, was the same smell she could remember. It smelled like his spinning wheel, not the smell that came from his golden thread but the smell when he had sat down to make wool thread. It smelled like home. Suddenly she picked up her head as a thought raced through her mind.

If this was here was there anything else of hers here as well? Her task forgotten she took off scouring the rest of the house. Looking for nothing in particular but still combing through the various items in the house for anything that might be recognizable. It was always when it seemed like a lost cause that her eyes would fall on something unexpected.

A blanket that she had taken from one of the upper rooms to keep her warm at night had been shoved haphazardly into the closet.

The shoes that she'd first worn when he had taken her from her father's palace lay under one of the rusty iron bed frames upstairs.

The cloak that he had given her when they'd gone out to hunt Robin Hood was there as well, it was mixed in with other clothes and coats and jackets so tightly she had to strain to pull it out.

She began to form a pile in the living room, all the stuff that she had found and belonged to her. All the bits and pieces of her broken life heaped together again, having no significance to anyone in the world except for her. There seemed to be at least one thing stashed in every room and soon enough the pink dress that she'd found one day, a pair of gloves she'd used to garden, a basket she'd used for the wash, a brush she had scrubbed dishes with, and a small mask that she'd used to decorate her room with were all added. She continued her scavenger hunt downstairs. And when she opened a small drawer in the dining room, expecting to find nothing but documents like the other two she gasped.

Her grandmother's necklace.

Her eyes did much more than water this time as she held her hands over her mouth as she saw it. She hadn't expected this surprise. Slowly and gently, like she was afraid she might find out it wasn't the same one, she reached out and grasped the gold chain in her hands. It was the right one. It was real. It was hers. The other things she'd found were all arguable because she had merely used them or scavenged them but this…this was hers. It had no other owner left living in the world besides her. She'd worn it every day since her grandmother had died up until the day she had taken it off when she went off in search of the Yaoguai and placed it in her bag. The men had taken it, forgetting that it was hers when they pushed her off of the cart, but after a few days she had realized just what had happened to it, had a good cry, and resigned herself to the truth that she would never see it again. It appeared in the curse it had made its way back to him. Or had it been traded somehow in their land and made its way back long before she had.

She clasped the tiny pearl in her hand and raced up the stairs, up to their bedroom, and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She watched herself with hawk like eyes as she undid the clasp then slid the jewelry up her chest and secured it back where it belonged around her throat. Did it?

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, intrigued at the fact that she wasn't sure this person now would be recognizable to the person she was when her grandmother had placed the object in her palm with shaky unsteady hands. So much was different then. She'd worn it first as a remembrance of her grandmother, the person who was more like a mother than a grandmother, then as a remembrance of herself, not wanting to strip away the final piece of who she was in his presence. But now…now she wasn't the same person, she didn't treasure the same things she had then, didn't value the same things. Would he love who she'd been? Would he love her if she had been like her grandmother? It had always seemed like a goal she'd had, private and secret to the rest of the world: to be like her grandmother, to be the Queen that her grandmother and father had wanted her to be, but to also be as different from them as they could be. She'd never quite figured out how to satisfy those two different desires and as time wore on she found she never had to. He'd spared her from ever having to make that transition.

And she was glad. She'd become her own version of herself. Taking the things that she liked from her grandmother, from the Queen, and adding her own personality into them. Her grandmother had loved fiercely, but she never would have loved a man like Rumpelstiltskin. That was her own doing. And her grandmother had exuded an air of confidence, but she'd never had the genuine confidence in herself to see a man under beasts mask. Not the way she did. And her grandmother had acted brave, but she'd never gotten the opportunity to truly be brave, not the way she had. She was her own person. After all these years she'd finally managed to learn how to combine the two images she'd had of herself. And she found that their product was more beautiful that than the looks of the woman who stood before her, the one that had worn this necklace in an act of mourning and, later, rebellion.

She reached up and removed the burden from her neck. She wouldn't get rid of it. She couldn't bring herself to do that, but she also didn't feel like she needed it any more. She carried it out into their room and looked on top of the dresser, expecting to see a jewelry box or some other precious container that she could store it away in. But there wasn't one. And why would there be? Until only a week ago he'd been living in this house alone with no hope that she would ever be joining him. With a sigh she perched the small item on the bedside table and thought that maybe she could ask him for a jewelry box to place it in sometime, just to be sure that it never wound up lost or found its way into the wrong hands again. Sitting there it looked right. It looked like it had found a new home, and made her feel like a bit of herself was finally really and truly in this house, just like she'd hoped.

Suddenly she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing and his voice calling her name, wondering where she was. With rapid excitement she ran from the room and down the stairs so fast that when she flung herself into his arms he looked at her with concern asking what was wrong and if she was alright. She'd merely smiled, and took his hand, pulling him into the living room and showing him the pile of her belongings that she made. He stared at the items expressionless as she showed him. "Did you know these were here? My things?"

He shook his head, a look of utter amazement on his face as he held the cloak in his hand. "In a way," he answered. "My cursed self knew they were here but didn't necessarily know what they were. I haven't thought of them since I got my memories back so I couldn't understand their significance until now." He had given her a typically complicated answer for a simple "yes" or "no" question, but she found herself smiling more at his words. The significance. She hadn't understood until this moment either. It wasn't that they were hers that made them truly significant. It was that they were hers, and they were here all along. She beamed again as she set the pink dress down against the couch and placed her hands on his shoulders, coming to a realization that she needed him to know just as much as she did.

"I belong here."


	50. Reflections of a Past Life

She found it hiding under a dresser in one of the unused rooms upstairs just after he left following lunch. Her heart had rejoiced as she held the item in her hands. This was what made cleaning the house worth it, these moments when she found bits of her old life strewn about his new life.

It had been her favorite book at the castle, and here it was, another piece of her life stashed here like it had been waiting just for her. She had been so overwhelmed with joy that she instantly stopped her cleaning and came downstairs. The living room was one of the first rooms that she'd finished cleaning and she was immensely proud that she didn't have to move anything but could just plop down on the couch, without raising a cloud of dust and start to read.

She had liked it when she was in the castle because she could relate to the girl who shared her name, but now that she was here, with him, well, now she saw that she had far less in common with the girl. Nevertheless she was enjoying it just as much as she had in the castle. In fact she was enjoying it so much she didn't hear the chime that told her he would soon be coming home. When the door opened and closed she found herself jumping for a second before he turned and found her there. He smiled at her, like he had every day, like he was genuinely happy to come home and still find her waiting there for him.

Usually she smiled back but this time her face fell as the sight of him triggered a forgotten and useless reminder. She'd been busy reading and hadn't remembered to make dinner. She let her head fall back against the cushion and the book lay open on her chest as she rubbed her forehead. How could she have so easily lost track of time? "Belle?" he asked hobbling into the room concern lacing his voice. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't help it, she laughed. The amount of time that they spent asking each other that question was absurd, really. "Nothing," she answered stifling her giggle. She sat up and marked her place in the book. "I found my favorite book and I've been reading all afternoon," she said happily, showing it to him. "But I lost track of time. I haven't made dinner yet," she admitted.

"You know that's not a requirement anymore," he muttered darkly under his breath, more to himself then to her.

"Yes, I know," she answered stubbornly, "but as I've told you before I refuse to sit here all day and do nothing," she insisted. "I am perfectly capable of making dinner!"

It was a fight they'd had often since she arrived. Next he would make a comment about her not being a servant anymore, she'd insist that someone had to do the housework, he'd get a pained look on his face, she'd ask that they not fight with their time, and they'd go about the rest of their night, awkwardly at first, pretending they hadn't fought, and by the end of the night they would ease back into comfortable silence and forget about it until the next time.

She waited for the inevitable, but she was shocked to find his argument never came. Tonight, instead of arguing back, he smirked at her answer. "Which book?" he asked grabbing it from where she had set it and taking the seat next to her on the couch. He looked the ragged hardcover book over, flipping it between his hands.

"_La Belle et La Bete" _she answered with a smile. He opened it up to the place she had marked it, looking at the beautifully drawn illustration and hand written words. "That's my favorite part, where she meets prince charming," she commented, "but she won't discover that it's him until chapter three," she explained, looking forward to the chapters to come. But when she glanced up at him she found that he was smiling. Something about her words had amused him. "What?" she asked.

He shook his head, his smile looking like it was ready to break into a laugh, but for as much as he giggled in their world, he rarely did it here. In fact she didn't know if she'd ever heard him give more than a small snort in her time with him. He didn't laugh, instead he just said, "You know that everyone outside of Storybrooke thinks this woman is you?"

This time it was her turn to give an obnoxious snort and a roll of her eyes. She might not have known much about the curse, or the relationship between this world and their world, but yes she had managed to put that together. And she thought that it was silly. There were similarities and she loved that about the book, it made the character relatable, but their story, the truth and the power of it was so much more real than the story in his hands. "Well, um, I'm pretty sure _that_ Belle wouldn't forget to make dinner, actually I'm pretty sure she would never make dinner or do any other chores. I didn't fall in love with a prince or a monster. And while we're at it, I'm certain that it would have taken me more than three chapters time to figure out I loved you."

His face changed as he stared at the closed book in his hands, the gears in his head turning over some thought he'd had. Something prompted by her words again? "When did you?" he asked suddenly, his voice a light whisper. It was how she knew the question was important; he always said it like he hoped that she wouldn't hear it and could take it back. She had the feeling that the question had been on his mind for a while; he just didn't have the excuse to ask it, until now.

She hadn't expected it, but years of being imprisoned had given her plenty of reflection time to sort it out, that wasn't a question she had to think about. "On the road, with the Queen" she answered honestly, but regretfully in a small voice. It was a lousy moment to have that realization, considering the woman she'd been with and what she had been planning "but I loved you long before I actually knew that I did." That seemed to make it sound better, made it sound like the Evil Queen didn't have that big a role in it.

Suddenly he set the book down on the table in front of him and turned to her. "When?" he asked enthusiastically. It surprised her, she rarely saw him this interested in anything. Suddenly it made her grateful that she had forgotten all about dinner.

The question was harder to answer. She knew when she realized that she loved him, but she didn't know when she had started. She thought back trying to figure it out, one more time, just as she had in the Queen's cell. She tried to find that moment that everything had changed, for her, for them. Finally she shrugged. "A while," she wished she could be more specific but it was the best she had ever been able to come up with.

"I thought you hated me for the longest time," he muttered a hint of sadness and regret in his voice.

"I did," she admitted, wishing she didn't have to say it. She couldn't lie to him, she had hated him. She could remember that feeling clearly emerging from the respectful curiosity she'd had when she'd first met him. But when hate had gone to tolerance, tolerance to like, like to friendship, and friendship to love, she couldn't pinpoint those exact moments. They seemed to blend together so well. One fading away as the other one grew. But love was so different, and true love different than that. She had loved him, she suspected, even when she respected him, maybe even in some strange way when she tolerated and hated him.

"But I never feared you," she said trying to find the one bright spot. "You tried, but I knew you would never hurt me. Well, I didn't _know _I suppose, it was just an instinct, the same one that told me there was more to you. I knew it even when I hated you, I was just too consumed to act on it, not until Robin Hood…" her voice trailed off and she realized that tears where forming in her eyes at the memories. She hadn't thought of those early days in so long, hadn't wanted to. Maybe that was it. The moment things changed, but then again feelings were so complicated, she couldn't sort them out, and she didn't think she was supposed to. That was the beauty of love. "You know it's not like a light switch, that you can throw on one moment and off the next. The knowledge of it is I suppose. You know one minute what you didn't a minute before. But love, it's something that grows and builds over time. It's…" she paused and smiled at the word that came to mind "layered," she said with a deep contented sigh.

"Where have I heard that before?" he muttered with a smile on his face as bright as hers. She couldn't imagine loving him more than she did now, but if it kept growing then she supposed one day she would. That thought was enough to make her feel suddenly dizzy. Was her heart big enough for that? Was his?

She shook her head and leaned in closer to him, intrigued at where the conversation had led them. "What about you?" she dared to ask, "When did you start to love me?"

His smile froze, he hadn't expected her to turn the question back on him. But, nevertheless, she felt like she could see him recede into his mind, trying to find the answers the same way that she had: replaying moments and memories of their past life over and over in his head. In fact, now that she thought about it she was curious as well. When had he fallen in love with her? Did he realize it before she had? Or had he been just as shocked as she had when her kiss had begun to break his curse? After a moment he shrugged his shoulders, the same way she had, and sighed in defeat, wearing a look she had probably worn too. "I think I always did." That surprised her. Had he loved her from the beginning, even when he claimed he wasn't looking for love, and taken her anyway?

She pushed herself forward a little more, creeping closer to him. To be apart for a conversation like this seemed unimaginable. "Really?" she asked "was it love at first sight?" She said it as if it might be a joke, but had to admit that the idea thrilled her. However, he shook his head then let it fall back against the sofa. He closed his eyes but the smile he wore on his face was the gentle one that he reserved only for her, as was the sigh of complete contentment that followed. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was replaying the memory clear as day over in his head. Probably recalling every detail perfectly, right down to the small castle he'd been playing with before they realized he was in the room.

"I admired you," he said after a moment "for standing up to your father and that oaf you were engaged to. I thought you were courageous for talking to me. I don't think you realized that no one else in that room wanted to be there and all of them were hoping not to have to interact with me. And then there was you, willing to talk when no one had called upon you. No one even expected you to. It was admirable and heroic beyond belief. I was intrigued," he admitted.

His words made her blush, and move a little closer to him again. She didn't know they would ever have ended up talking about this, but she liked it. She liked knowing what he had been thinking. Especially these early memories, before she'd known him well enough to read the expressions on his face. "What about when I dropped my chipped cup?" she reached out and placed her hand over the one resting on his knee.

This time he smiled. "I was entertained. When you live as long as I have you learn that most things are unimportant, to see someone so worried about breaking something as silly as a tea cup was almost humorous," he explained with the smallest hint of a laugh in his voice. "And I was just glad for the company in the beginning. You were right, I was just as lonely as you suspected I imagine," his voice was even and though monotone she could hear the emotion in it as he reminisced, "maybe more. I just didn't know it."

"When I freed Robin Hood?"

"Oh, no!" he said immediately, his grip on her hand tightening, not angrily but protectively. It was almost as if he wished he could have saved her from himself, even then. "I was far too…upset…with you to feel anything else…" From the way he said it, and the way she remembered it, it appeared "upset" was putting it lightly. His expression had gone from one of happiness to darkness. Obviously this period in their relationship upset him just as much as it did her. She wasn't so blinded by love to ignore all the slights he'd committed in the beginning. He'd been terribly cruel to her, said horrible things, but he'd stopped that behavior soon enough, once he knew that she wouldn't bend so easily to his will. And besides, he'd gotten better. He'd softened around her, letting her get away with things no maid ever should have.

"But you didn't hurt me," she commented, trying to make him remember, trying once again to remind him of the happier thoughts. "You could have killed me, but you never raised more than your voice against me when others would have without a second thought."

"The thought to harm you" he commented like it was the nastiest thing he'd ever heard, "never even crossed my mind," he assured her. The look on his face confirmed it, he was telling the truth.

She had been right then, all those years ago. "And then you saved me from that terrible sheriff," this time the grip on her hand was bone crunching and he grit his teeth together, the anger toward the man and what he had suggested still fresh as the day the suggestion had been made.

"He was lucky. If I had known that I loved you then, he most certainly wouldn't be alive today. As it is he should hope he never crosses my path again," she didn't like the turn this conversation had taken, but she wasn't willing to give it up just yet. It just needed a different path, one that didn't involve threats.

"And you spared Robin Hood," his face broke into the smile again and he opened his eyes and looked at her. Gazing into her eyes with more emotion than she'd known he was capable of, he raised her hand to his mouth, his grip softening, and kissed the back of it. On the outside no one would guess that he could be romantic and tender, but he could be, and he touched her heart in a way that no one else had ever managed with just that look on his face now.

"And you hugged me like you didn't care who I was, or what I had done. Like what I had tried to do was nothing. It was as if you saw me as more than the beast that I was."

"That's because I did," she confirmed. She hadn't seen much of it then and it was more of a hunch until he'd let the man go, but she'd seen something for sure. And she could remember being so happy about it that she couldn't help herself, and surprised when she found that it had felt right. That feeling made perfect sense to her in hindsight.

He shook his head at her, like he couldn't quite process her information, like he was getting far too much of it at once. She knew the feeling. It was a good conversation, but it was a lot, even for her. "I couldn't remember the last time someone had touched me that purposefully before, with gratitude" he added still dwelling on what she had always thought a fairly insignificant moment. Clearly it had meant more to him than she thought it had, and she would never have known its true importance if he hadn't told her. "Certainly without being repulsed by my appearance alone. And I knew…"

"That you loved me?"

"That you were different. That you made me feel and think things I hadn't for a long time. Things I never had felt or thought before. I thought it was guilt and that I could get rid of by giving you the library"

"My library was a bribe!" she asked shocked.

"Your library was given to make me feel better, or so I thought" he clarified "but when I knew you saw me as more than I saw myself, I realized it was more than that. I had an unexplainable urge to make you happy. And that should have been my first hint."

She sighed, this was far more interesting than the book she'd been reading, a far better story. She knew that he wouldn't be able to place the moment exactly, she hadn't been able to after all, but she liked thinking about this with him, and talking about those memories, and finally learning what he had thought about their time in the castle. "Did you love me when I found that blue dress?"

"Most certainly, I just didn't know it. And I was too stunned to even consider something like that. I don't know if you realize how perfectly exquisite you looked in that plain dress. It suited you far better than your previous attire. You were…" his words trailed off, unable to find the words to describe her.

She blushed, and changed the memory, "I thought I was going to die, when I fell off that ladder, but you caught me."

"You wouldn't have died," he said in a tone meant to chastise her exaggeration, "but you were lucky I was there. I suspected then," he admitted to her suddenly, like he had just found the missing piece of a puzzle. "I suppose that was when I knew," he nodded to himself. "I would have been devastated if something had happened to you. I would have used any amount of magic, any means possible, to fix you. I knew you were more of a danger to me than some of my greatest enemies.

"I was devastated to send you away, but it had to be done. If there was something there I couldn't risk the connection growing any deeper, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything worse than dismiss you. But it was too late. When you came back to me," he placed his hand over his chest "my heart soared." He glanced at her like he was seeing her again for the first time, it was how she imagined he looked when he first saw her coming back to the castle.

"For the first time in my life I forgot about why I couldn't let you come back, about why you were a risk to me. The sight of you coming back on the road, when you didn't have to, when you had other options open to you..." He stopped there, too overwhelmed to go on. She wanted to ask a million questions. Why he couldn't risk loving her was at the top of it. But she didn't want to sully the moment they were making right now. It was something to be explored, but later, she'd save it for another time. It was probably best, the next chapter wasn't exactly a happy one.

But this chapter was incredibly happy. The fact that they were sitting together, hands joined, co-existing happily in one house, talking about something as intimate as each other's lives and feelings was a miracle all on its own. The fact that he had come to let her into his life spoke volumes about the depths of the "connection" he'd mentioned. Looking back on past chapters was fun, but she'd rather look ahead at what was to come. At the chapters they had yet to create.

Hearing the clock chime behind her, she was reminded of the rumbling in her stomach. With a sigh she perched herself happily on her knees and leaned over kissing him with a happier outcome than that one that they'd shared what felt like a lifetime ago. "Thank you," she whispered when they finally broke apart. She hugged him tightly around his neck, he returned the embrace, holding her against him the best he could at the awkward angle. She could feel his face pressed into her neck, taking in her scent, making her feel like the most important thing in the world. The most loved thing in the world.

"I love you," he muttered into her skin so quietly she didn't know if she was supposed to hear the words or not. "So much more than I ever thought possible." She smiled at his words and pulled away, but not without placing another couple of quick kisses against his lips, she couldn't respond. She felt the same way. From the moment he'd escorted her out of her father's palace she never would have guessed she'd be willing to share this much of her life with him, never would have guessed this was where their story would take them. But she couldn't think of anything she'd rather be doing. Nothing would ever be able to compare to those words.

"Dinner?" she asked, knowing they couldn't stay here forever, wishing they could.

"Dinner," he confirmed nodding happily, allowing them to move on hand in hand.


	51. Broken Glass

She didn't know what to do. He was usually home by now. He was usually home hours ago. Every day he left in the morning, returned to share lunch with her, then left again for the afternoon only to return again for dinner. He didn't always come home for lunch, but he always promised that he'd be home before the sun set. So far he'd kept that promise every night. He'd appeared just before sundown, they'd had dinner, they'd relax as the sun went down usually with a book for her while he cleaned one of the many knick knacks he kept in the house, or fixed one of the many objects she had placed in the "fixable" pile, then they'd go to bed before waking up the next morning and beginning all over again. For the most part it was a dull existence, but for now she could live with it, so long as he came home to her every night. But tonight he had broken their routine without so much as a word.

At first she had been fine. She'd watched the clock tick the minutes by thinking maybe he had just gotten held up in the shop. She'd asked about the town every day since she'd been freed, and every day he'd told her that it was in chaos and nothing was predictable. It seemed like a perfectly good explanation for missing dinner. Then the sun had started to set. And she started watching that object that he called a phone. He'd told her that it was for communication, that if she ever needed something she should punch the number in and talk into it. He could be home in a flash. With his magic she didn't doubt it. She'd tried the phone several times, but never heard his voice on the other end, just a constant shrill ringing. Now that it was dark out, she couldn't sit still. She'd paced the kitchen. She'd tried reading her book. She tried cleaning. Nothing settled her.

Now she sat outside on the steps, breaking his advisement not to leave the house but she just couldn't sit in that confining space any more going out of her mind with worry. And so she sat, looking up and down the black river that passed for a street here, hoping to see the lights of his car coming. She folded her legs up closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees, making herself as little as possible against the chilly breeze that was blowing.

If something was wrong, what could she do? Where could she go? She had no idea how to get to town. Even if she did, she suspected it would take her too long to walk there. Whatever danger or trouble he was caught in would be passed by then. She pressed her chin into her knees, trying not to think the worst.

Something bright caught her attention and she glanced up at it. Tensions in her body seemed to melt away. It was his car, but it was coming from the wrong direction. It turned into the space it occupied every night and the lights along with the low sound that it emit suddenly died. Her fear suddenly gave way to a new emotion: anger. Where had he been? Obviously not town! And why couldn't he have taken two minutes to use the phone to call her?! To tell her that he wouldn't be home on time and that he was fine?! But then again, she was suddenly so relieved to see him step out of the car that she could have rund down and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him until her lips bled. Anger and relief seemed to be fighting for their chance at him first. And she didn't know where to begin.

Happiness won out, at least for the moment. As soon as she heard the metallic slam of the door she was off the porch and hurrying toward him. He seemed to not be aware of her until she was nearly in front of him. A look of shock touched his features before she threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. Love first, anger later. "Belle?" he asked, his arms coming around her. "What's happened? Why are you outside?" he asked pulling away from her.

"Where were you?!" she asked her own question first.

"I, uh," he looked strange, like he wasn't himself at all, like the rest of the world had melted away and something had planted itself in his head taking its place. Taking her place. He looked behind him, up and down the road. He looked like he couldn't remember how he gotten back home. "I got held up in town." He was lying. It was a matter of pride that she could tell. And when he really got "held up" he certainly never wore this expression. Something was wrong. Something was upsetting him. She moved her hands back onto his cheeks, forcing him to look at her.

"Rumple, what, what's happened?" she asked, confused by his behavior. He only looked down at her and smiled. But it wasn't his true smile, it was a fake one. One to make her feel better and reassured. It didn't.

"Nothing," he breathed "everything's fine. Let's get you inside before you catch cold." She knew better, the look on his face was plain as day, it was not nothing. But experience told her that coaxing it out of him would be irritatingly difficult. She wished that he would just make life easy on her and tell her when she asked, but being honest and forthcoming was not in his nature, and that was not something easily changed. He shut the door behind her and after taking off his things to ward against the cold, moved around her like she wasn't even there. She tried not to feel hurt, she tried to remember that something was obviously not right and that earned him a free pass. But instead it only served to make her more frustrated with him.

She ran after him, not willing to give up the subject. She wouldn't tip-toe around him, not like last time. "Do you, uh, want dinner? I put some,"

"I'm just," he turned and faced her raising his hands to stop her from getting to close to him, "I'm just not that hungry at the moment" he stuttered before turning back and heading farther into the house. She could see that he was trying not to raise his voice at her. Something had happened today that had gotten on his nerves. But she wasn't going to let him hold it inside to torture him. She could help, she knew that she could.

She followed after him as he made his way into the kitchen, and sat at their too large dining table with a sigh. He looked old. Old, and beaten down, like everything that was bright inside of him at been extinguished. It was a look of hopelessness. She just wished she knew why he wore it. He couldn't expect to wear an expression like that and have her believe that nothing was wrong. He wasn't even trying to hide it from her.

With a sigh she retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She could leave. She could give him some time with his thoughts, and wait to see if he would come around on his own. But she already knew that he wouldn't, and she didn't wait all day for him to come home just so she could meander off into another section of the house and be by herself all over again. She set the glass of water before him and sat down beside him. "What, uh," maybe another approach? "What happened in town today? Is the chaos finally calming?" she asked gently, watching him take the glass of water and swallow a large gulp.

He had told her stories every day she'd come back. Now that people had their memories back the place that had once been a well-managed town was in shambles. Families that had been separated were looking for each other, the systems that this land had in place had been broken down in favor of searching for the lost, figuring out who to blame, and now that they knew they didn't belong here, what came next. It seemed to get a little better every day. In fact she'd heard about a place where family members posted pictures of their loved ones, and in a few days she had hoped to send him with a picture of her father, and one or two of the friends she'd met from the other world. She had hoped he'd bring her art supplies today, but clearly he hadn't. What was going on?

"Something did happen today," she put forth, trying to get a response out of him, anything beyond the shock on his face. He still looked tired as he looked her over, contemplating something. She let out an irritated sigh. If he wasn't going to tell her then she would be reduced to guessing, to reading the emotion on his face and hoping she could figure it out. "Did someone come into the shop, or" if basic didn't work then maybe a little shock of her own would get something from him. "It's the Evil Queen isn't it? She's looking for me again!"

"No, no, no, nothing like that," he assured her sitting forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You are perfectly safe. She won't dare to come near you, now. Not as long as I'm around." Glad he'd finally broken his silence, she reached for the hand he had placed on her shoulder and held it securely between her own. She tried to give him the most reassuring, trusting smile that she possibly could. She wanted him to confide in her, to know that she was a safe place to keep his secrets, hopes, and his fears. She wanted him to tell her.

"Then what happened, in town, today?" she asked again moving forward again. "Rumple, please, whatever is happening, you can tell me." The closeness had the opposite effect on him. He pulled his hand away and stood up so quickly that she would have fallen off her chair if she hadn't grabbed onto the table.

"It's nothing," he repeated quietly, "just a little problem at the town line."

She knit her brows together in confusion. "The town line? What problem?" she asked a little too forcibly. But she was sick of playing around with him. Why would he be so upset about something at the town line?

He hunched over the sink and heaved a sigh. He was breaking down. She could tell by his posture. All she had to do was sit and wait. The clock ticked by the seconds as she watched him stare straight ahead, but she wasn't going to budge. He'd come home late, he hadn't given her any excuse, and something was so clearly wrong with him, she wasn't going to have him invade their time in such a way.

"It appears," he finally said softly, like he was hoping that she wouldn't hear "that the curse was only half broken." She took in his words, unsure how something like this could only half be undone.

"Half broken?" she saw him nod then turn around to face her, rubbing his hand down his face. The tension was worsening. He looked like the more that he focused on it the more pain that it caused him. The last thing on earth that she wanted to do was cause him pain. Instead of focusing on it should she have distracted him from it? No, distraction and pushing a problem away didn't make it better. She couldn't help him if she didn't even know what to help.

He seemed to look everywhere but at her, "While everybody has their memories back it appears that the town is still shielded from the outside world."

She wished she could understand better. The subject of the curse was something that she still only understood in bits and pieces, he'd explained some things to her. She knew she'd been locked in the room for twenty-eight years, she knew the curse had been broken by True Love's Kiss, and she knew that it revolved around The Prince, Snow, and their Daughter. But she didn't know what the town line had to do with anything. "I'm sorry," she apologized "what, what do you mean by shielded?"

He gave her a frustrated look again. It made her want to grit her teeth. It wasn't as if she had asked to be imprisoned for twenty-eight years without any knowledge of what was going on. And it wasn't as if the Queen had volunteered the information when she'd been held prisoner in a tower before then. "The town has been shielded by magic for all these years. It prevents everyone from leaving and it's prevented others from finding us," he explained. "It appears those barriers are still in place. Anyone who tries to leave town," he sighed and rubbed his forehead like the words were heavier than a hundred pound weight, "forgets their past life, and remembers only their life from Storybrooke."

"So," she repeated his words over in her head, trying to make sure that she understood. "You would cease to be Rumpelstiltskin, and only be Mr. Gold," she confirmed.

He nodded, "No you, no deals, no…" his words trailed off and she glimpsed tears forming in the corners of his eyes. She wished that he hadn't stopped. She was struggling to understand. Struggling to figure out why this was so bad. No one could leave the town, that was depressing but not the worst thing that could happen. It might force everyone to stay here and figure out their problems, figure out how to get the town back into working order, or how to return to their home. She didn't know much of this world beyond this house, but was the world outside of Storybrooke ready to know about magic? Were they ready to know that sometimes the things the feared went bump in the night did indeed exist? And what would happen when they found out?

"But if no one can find the town that's good isn't it?" she asked confused, hoping that she was pointing out something that he hadn't figured out "that means that we'll all be safe, won't we. They can't come after us and we can't go after them?" He stared at her for a long time, a certain amount of frustration and disappointment joining the ever present anger on his face. He shook his head and took another drink of water, then turned his attention to the empty glass, staring at it like it had all the answers that he sought.

"That's just the problem isn't it" he muttered. Suddenly she watched him turn and throw the glass into the sink. The sound of the shattering glass made her jump. Tears stung her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand in shock. He strode out of the kitchen without giving her a second glance and out into the backyard, the door slamming behind him. She let him go, she didn't know what to do next, she didn't know how to help him if he wouldn't let her. Slowly she rose to her feet and looked at the broken mess in the sink that had spilled out into the floor.

She hadn't imagined it. It really had happened.

His outburst had surprised her. He had a temper, she knew that about him almost from the first moment they had met but she had hoped that it wouldn't show itself again for a long time. She picked a dish towel out of the drawer and began piling the broken shards into the towel. But a sharp pain across her finger made her stop. She glanced down at the broken skin and saw small drops of blood beading across the cut. It was the final break in this horrible day. She couldn't hold back her tears any longer, and she sat down in chair she had just risen from, and cried. She felt angry but most of all she felt incompetent.

She wasn't good at this. She didn't fit into this world like she had the last one. The relationship that they had was so different from when they lived in the castle, she felt like there was no other place for her than besides him, but he kept pushing her away from him, not even giving her the chance to try and learn how to respond in their current situation. She didn't know how to do this job. She had so many questions and no one to answer them for her, least of all him. She wondered if she could ever make this relationship work the way that she wanted it to. How was she supposed to be there for him and fix his life, when he wouldn't even let her try?


	52. Honesty or Nothing

Out of everything she could have been upset with, going to bed alone was what broke her heart the most. They'd had what she suspected might be called a fight, although there had been no yelling and screaming. He'd refused to answer her most basic questions. She had cried more after that broken glass and tiny cut on her finger than she thought she ever had in her life. And going to bed by herself for the first time since she'd arrived here, knowing that he wasn't there beside her, only seemed to cut deeper than it all.

Though she had the bedroom to herself, she couldn't sleep. Her tears had eventually given way to anger, a furrowed brow, and a clenched jaw. She knew that it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help his stubbornness, she'd known that since her days at the castle. But that stubbornness still made her furious, they weren't in the castle any more, and their relationship was different here. She wanted him to tell her things…but she couldn't make him, and she didn't want to make him. She wanted him to tell her all these things because he wanted to, because he trusted her, because he loved her. Why wouldn't he?!

Suddenly her heart jumped as she heard a creek at the top step and the knob to their bedroom turn. She shut her eyes, trying her best to pretend like she was asleep. She just wasn't ready to face him yet. She wasn't sure if she could keep her anger in check, and no matter what happened in town today, she was certain he didn't need that. It wouldn't make him trust her. But then again what did she know about what he needed and didn't need. What did she know about relationships. The only one she'd ever had was with Gaston and that was hardly one that she needed to work to keep together. Maybe she really just didn't know him like she thought she did. Maybe she just wasn't any good at this. Maybe that's why he didn't tell her things.

It appeared it didn't matter if she was ready to face him, she felt his jacket fall across the foot of the bed. "Belle," he muttered softly, like he was testing whether she was actually awake. She kept her eyes closed, hoping he would just assume she was asleep and not bother to wake her. But instead of letting her lay there, she felt him sit next to her, pressing against her hip, his hand running gently through her hair and on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you awake?" he whispered, it seemed that he wasn't going to let her get away with sleeping. What did he want now? Was he finally going to tell her what happened in town today? Or was he just going to pretend like tonight had never happened?

With a frustrated sigh she opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back, "I never went to sleep," she admitted meeting his eyes as she pushed herself up and hugged her knees to her chest. There was a long silence as they watched each other. He seemed to be struggling with what to say, seeing her legs as a barrier, like the kind that she often felt he put up between them. In her spite she found herself thinking that it was good if he didn't like it, at least he knew how she felt when he did the same thing.

Finally, after a few silent moments, he gestured to himself "I'm sorry," he said the words like they had been in his mouth for a long time but couldn't get them out. Once he said them though, he seemed to deflate a bit, his face pained and upset. "I'm sorry I lost my temper and left you like that," he explained further. Frankly the words surprised her. Not because he'd said them, he'd done it once before in his shop, but the words had been empty and hallow then. Now they were true and genuine. She really didn't think he was used to giving a true apology.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her eyes water. "It's fine," she muttered, half heartedly. It meant a lot to her that he would say that, but it didn't erase the moment, it didn't take back all of her questionings and suspicions. It didn't give her answers.

"No, it's not, I" he interrupted "I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you," he said scooting a bit closer to her. He paused suddenly and looked her up and down with confusion. "Why are you crying?" he asked, reaching out and touching the side of her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she muttered wiping her cheek. Was she crying? Why? He'd apologized but these didn't feel like tears of happiness or relief. They felt sad and even guilt ridden. She felt bad. The depressing thoughts she'd had earlier suddenly returned to her head. No, his stubbornness wasn't his fault and she hadn't asked him to shatter that glass. But what if she wasn't capable of saying the right things, what if she wasn't capable of holding their relationship together? She hadn't known what to do when he'd erupted downstairs. She hadn't known how to sooth him or help him. She couldn't even manage to make him talk to her in a way that would make him feel better. She was an excellent caretaker, but this, what they had now, sometimes she felt herself truly doubting that she could ever be as good at this as she had been a maid.

She took a deep breath and swallowed, "I'm sorry, that I'm not good at this. I'm sorry," she explained, "That I can't do or say what you need me to do and say," her voice broke and she really started to cry. Repulsed and embarrassed at her confession she concealed her tears from him by dropping her head into her raised knees. Being what he needed her to be should have been the easy part, it always had been, even in the castle. So why wasn't it now?

"No, no, no, no," she felt the depression on the bed move closer to her. She felt his arms come around her small balled form and pull her close. She sobbed against him too ashamed to look him in his eyes. How could she not be what he needed, when he was everything she needed? Their relationship felt contaminated somehow, she just wished she knew where the problem was so she could pluck it out, roots and all. "My beautiful Belle," he muttered, pulling her away from him and holding her head in his hands. His face bore traces of guilt and pain as he swiped the stray tears away from her cheeks. "My beautiful, beautiful, darling Belle," he sighed "the fault is mine. It is not something that you did or didn't do…" his words trailed off as he swallowed, searching for the right words. He knocked his forehead against hers and sighed deeply, contentedly, it was as if being closer to her gave him courage and peace. "You are the best thing in my life. I don't know what I did to deserve you," but she didn't know if he was talking to himself or her. To the trained eye, maybe only to hers, he wore his emotions on his sleeves, and sometimes like earlier, it was bad. Other times, like now, it allowed him to say some of the most beautiful words she'd ever heard in her life. Her muscles seemed to relax, and she unfurled from the little ball she'd been in as she scooted forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping she would receive the same strength and courage he had.

"I can't get this right if you don't help me. I need you to tell me what to do, just be patient with me," she whispered.

"Belle," he pulled her away from him looking her in the eyes more serious than he ever had been before. "Love, true or otherwise, has never been something that I've been good at. I'm sorry that I forget to be patient with you, when _I_ forget that fact." His hand found his way to her cheek again. "Having you in my life is new for me." He whispered, then drew her to him and kissed her forehead tenderly.

And as "new" as all this was, for both of them, there were some concepts that she was getting good at sensing. This one, for example, that deep desire that stirred from the depths of her soul and seemed to make her need to be as close to him as humanly possible. They'd made love too many times for her to count, each time becoming more and more natural, more and more wonderful. This time it was nearly powerful enough to undo this terrible night. It reminded her how perfect they were together. How much they really loved each other and all the good things that they could do together. It made her wonder how she could ever question the good in their relationship. The feelings didn't dissipate after they'd reached that moment of unhinged bliss. They continued long after they remained glued to each other's sides, staring at the ceiling, and waiting for their breathing to share the same peace their minds felt.

He seemed to be determined to fix what he had done. She was taking in all the lovely things he was saying, storing it up so that she could come back to it in the days ahead and remember them when outbursts happened in the future, because she was sure they would. "You give me peace," he added finally "No one has ever done that before," she sighed, liking that thought. She hadn't been wrong. She was special and different to him.

She was pillowed against his shoulder, his hand lightly trailing over her hip and stomach. It was comforting, but she made the mistake of letting her mind wander and looking back on the day as her mind rocked on the precipice of sleep. It wandered back to that moment he had broken the glass, and remembered thinking that if only he could have been more honest with her, this would never have happened in the first place. She was suddenly wide awake.

He'd mended the chasm he'd created between them, but it never had to have existed. He could have just told her what had happened. He could have told her what exactly was the problem with him not being able to leave town. Her unanswered question bloomed in her chest, lighting her nerves on fire. She had something to say, something he needed to hear and understand. This rift was manageable, but what about the ones in the future. If he didn't understand that she was a good person, that she was a safe person, to tell all his secrets then she would tell him. Now was as good a time as any. Because if she didn't this would only continue to happen. And she didn't want him to separate them again like he had before, physically or otherwise.

Determinedly she rolled over onto her stomach resting on her elbows as she looked down at him. "You can't keep everything to yourself Rumple," she burst out, trying to make it as gentle as possible. "You can't be afraid to tell me things!"

He nodded, looking at her gravely. "Belle, I understand," he insisted, but his voice was automatically argumentative again, and she could see the panic in his face, like she had just asked him to face a dragon without magic. She still didn't know how she could scare him after all this time. She wasn't intimidating, and it wasn't like she was asking him to tell the world. Just her. She would never in her life be against him, didn't he see that?

"You can trust me with anything," she blurted out.

"I know," he responded with an irritated sigh. "But please, you have to know too, I'm not used to telling people what they want to hear. I've perfected doing the exact opposite and, doing what you ask, it doesn't come naturally," he explained honestly. It was something, at least. "I've depended on no one but myself for centuries, and I'm not used to having someone I can entrust my past to."

"I know," she hung her head, yes, she understood, and he had a valid point. But that wasn't an excuse not to even try. Not here, not between the two of them. She'd made changes in her life for him. He could do the same for her. "But you're also not used to this," she reached for his hand and held it between her own. Neither of them were. But revealing secrets was something he could only get used to if he tried it. And she had to admit that she wasn't guilt free either. She needed to understand. Lifetimes of secrets, of plans gone bad, of solitude and loneliness, it wasn't an easy thing for him to talk about, and she had to remember that it was possible that the memories might be painful. The last thing in the world that she wanted to cause him was pain. But there had to be a way for both of them to get what they wanted, what they needed from each other. A way that he could ease gently into telling her about his past without being threatened and a way that she could get the answers about him that she sought. She swallowed, thinking an idea over in her mind. Making a decision, a plan, she lifted the hand that she held to her lips. "Make me a deal," she insisted.

A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. He pulled his hand away and gently reached out to brush her hair over her shoulder. It was a shame that he couldn't trust her as much as she knew he loved her. She could feel it in his actions. And so, she had to hope, that maybe one day, he would. "Deals work both ways, dearie," he said, his voice was warning but his face showed that he saw humor in his own words. She had to admit, something about the situation was funny. But he'd never been able to resist hearing terms of a deal. He'd been able to disagree, and change the terms, but he couldn't move on without hearing what she wanted to suggest. "What is it that you want?" he would do anything for her, deal or no deal, but she wanted him to know that it would work out for him as well. If that meant she had to speak his language, then so be it.

"I want you to trust me."

He rolled his eyes and threw his hand in the air like her words insulted him and he was tired of dwelling on this conversation. "I do trust you," he countered, the romantic nature of his words disappearing with a frustrated sigh. She knew he had said the words, and she believed him, but she wanted him to believe the words. She wanted him to show her.

She reached out and lay her hand on the side of his face, resting her thumb over his lips "I wasn't finished." He glanced over at her, and gave a sigh of consignment. He wasn't happy about it, but he'd listen to her. "I want you to trust me, to tell me things about you and your life, and to answer me truthfully when I ask. Can you do that?"

His mouth opened and closed, and he suddenly averted his eyes away from her, feigning interest in the corner of the ceiling. He wouldn't make a deal that he knew he couldn't keep and the fact that he wasn't answering proved that he truly did understand what was being asked of him and that gave her comfort. But the fact that he hadn't answered right away, that he had to think about it scared her. He would do it if she asked, he really just didn't know if he could. Was it possible to know a person better than they knew themselves? Looking at him, it seemed entirely plausible. Her doubts from earlier had dissolved. She knew he could give her what she was asking, he just had to want to.

She waited patiently, surely tangled as they were he could only go for so long before he had to look at her again. But the stubborn man seemed determined and it wouldn't hurt if she pushed it a little. She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of it and maneuvered herself up closer to him and planted a kiss on his lips, forcing him to acknowledge her with a sharp intake of breath. She had to fight the urge to let the world melt away again and leave them in blissful peace. But when she finally pulled away he was looking up at her, interested and serious again. Deals were never far from his mind, especially those unmade. He sighed, "Thing about deals, is that you can't get something for nothing. You have to have something that I want."

"I do," she answered quickly. She'd already thought about it and had an answer from the beginning. And although it broke her heart to limit them it would help to protect him and to keep her curiosity in check.

"And what's that?" he asked interested.

She smiled, "Peace of mind," she answered. His eye brows peaked with interest, which was good since that was what she was hoping for. "You give me honesty. In return I promise not to bombard you with questions from your past. No more than three at a time," she suggested, carefully choosing her words so that he couldn't find a loop hole.

"One in a single day," he offered, quickly catching onto her proposition. It was foolish to think a trickster could ever be tricked.

"Two!" she compromised, trying to ignore the sad feeling that they'd had to negotiate something like this in the first place. Two questions a day didn't give her much room for information, but baby steps were a good start. They'd worked once with him, maybe it would work again.

"Honesty or nothing," he muttered, referring to himself.

She nodded. "So," she sighed, trying to pretend that it wasn't as big a deal as she felt it was. She had already made up her mind. If he agreed she wouldn't ask him anything tonight, she'd save it for later. Making the deal was already asking him to be more vulnerable than he liked to be and she wouldn't use it to expose him like that. She wouldn't ask random questions just to get random answers, she wouldn't abuse it, and she wanted him to see that. It was how trust was built. "Do we have a deal?" She asked gently, hovering over him, wanting nothing more than his assurance that they did, because she didn't know what would happen if he didn't agree to it.

She expected words but what she got was better. Instead of words he reached up and put his lips against hers, drawing her down to him again. Yes, sealed with a kiss was much better than words.


	53. When You Wake Up

She hadn't been looking forward to going to sleep tonight. She never did the night after a nightmare, always fearing that they would come back to haunt her dreams the following night. Nightmares were a rarity for her, she didn't even dream normally, or if she did she didn't remember her dreams. But her nightmares, she always remembered. Last night she had dreamed of a padded cell with bars on a window and a strong iron lock at the door. As she'd stared at the room it had started to shrink. As she banged on the door the walls started closing in. She had begged for mercy and the ceiling had hit her head. The room became smaller and smaller and smaller until it was so dark and she couldn't breathe and from a small window at the door a black haired woman sat smiling and then broke into a terrible laugh. She'd gasped as she sat up in bed. Inevitably wrenching herself away from his protective grasp and curling into herself while she looked around the spacious quiet room, breathing in the air in great gulps.

She had clutched her knees to her chest. She'd started to tear up in the aftermath. But after the shock came the anger and frustration of what had happened to her. She rested her forehead against the top of her arms, angry that this could still happen, that even in freedom the Evil Queen still wouldn't let her have peace, and couldn't let them live their life as happily ever after as she wanted.

He was always there when she woke up. He was a light sleeper and he seemed to wake up the instant she had, just as surprised that it was her having the nightmare and not him. His arm had snaked around her back and down to her waist as she told him what she had seen. She knew it wasn't easy for him. Setting aside the seething anger that he would feel toward the Evil Queen in moments like this, his instinct in the past would have been to leave and kill. But he didn't. Instead he gathered her balled form up and let her cry into his shoulder until her mind started to relax. Finally she started to uncurl and he was able to lay them back onto the mattress and hold her fiercely against his chest until she fell asleep again.

It made for a nice change, having him soothe her nightmares instead of having to chase away his. That had been the norm since she got here, and each and every time it broke her heart to think of him having to deal with it on his own without her there as a comforting presence. Nightmares aside she was certain the only reason that she could deal with everything that had happened to her was because he was always there, constantly making her feel safe and secure.

Still, with that memory in her head she hadn't been as eager to go to sleep tonight, worrying that it might have been the beginning of a new norm, worrying that she might wake up again in the middle of the night from another terrifying nightmare. He seemed to know that. If she didn't know any better then she would think that he was purposefully trying to distract her. Running his hands up and down her like that and kissing her like he did. It was a good distraction. And when she curled up next to him with a smile on her face, as she always did, she thought that he had done a wonderful job acting as her protector. He kept her safe from others but now it appeared he was also protecting her from herself. "Stay with me," she muttered stretching her arms around his waist and feeling so close to him she thought she might be welded to him. "Forever," she added. She wasn't sure what prompted the request, she knew that he'd stay with her, that he'd never leave her, it wasn't like it was before, they were closer now. But after last night she had to hear the words, had to know that she could count on him to always drive those fears away.

He sighed deeply, just as happy she was in the moment, "I can't think of a better way to spend eternity, sweetheart." She closed her eyes, still loving when he called her that. No matter what happened tonight, she could trust him to be there as she slept or if she awoke.

There was no new norm. She was just the outlier in their sea of what was normal.

He didn't gasp when he awoke. He didn't pant or fling himself upright or even look around shocked trying to figure out where he was. Instead he just gave a violent jerk. She was never a light sleeper, not like he was, but even in sleep her body seemed to be hypersensitive to his emotions. They were both instantly awake. Although it had shocked her the first few times, now they both knew exactly what had happened without him needing to say the word. Nightmare. They didn't upset him like they seemed to do her. But they unsettled him, enough that the first time he had gotten up and paced downstairs. She hadn't liked that, because when she was honest with herself, she just couldn't get to sleep in the room without him. She didn't think she knew how to sleep without him anymore.

This time when it happened she glanced up at him, still in the same position that she had gone to sleep in, a glance at the clock confirmed that they hadn't been asleep very long before he had been startled awake. For a moment she felt a rush of relief that it was him and not her, and then immediately a stab of guilt for thinking it. But unlike dealing with her own erratic nightmares, his she could handle so well she knew the script by heart. She pulled away from him, covering her chest with the sheet, so that he could sit up. "Are you alright?" she asked watching him rub his eyes, trying to pretend like she didn't know the answer about to come out of his mouth.

"Fine," he muttered predictably. Once she was certain that he had gotten his bearings, she sat up herself and hugged him around his middle, trying to be the same soothing presence that he had been for her.

"Do you know what it was about this time?" He wouldn't, he never remembered his dreams either, or at least so he claimed. The look on his face was always one of blankness. It made it hard for her to tell if he was lying or if he was just more startled than he claimed to be. He had promised her honesty, so she was going to believe him. After all, he seemed to know everything, so she could only imagine that not knowing what was in his own head was more disturbing that whatever he had actually dreamed about..

"No," he answered, again predictably.

She nodded and pressed her lips to his shoulder. Now was the hard part, he would give into her, he always did but some nights were easier than others. Which this would be, an easy or a hard night, she wouldn't know until she asked. "Come on," she whispered "come back to bed." She gave his arm a tug, trying to get him to lay down again.

He shook his head, so it was going to be difficult tonight then. "No, I need to go downstairs…"

"You need sleep," she interrupted.

"I don't want to keep you up," he said, coming up with a typical excuse that she had explained away many times already.

But if it meant keeping him by her side, she would do it again a million times over if that's what it took. "The only way you can keep me up is by leaving." He considered this for a moment, staring straight ahead at the wall as she rubbed his back, trying to make his heart rate slow down and get his knotted muscles to ease, trying to calm his body inside and out. "Going downstairs to pace isn't going to make the memories come back, Rumple," she pointed out blandly. "Trust me I know," she reminded him. This time he glanced sideways at her. The words that she'd said seemed to have been enough to draw him out of his own mind. She had him, and she was happy it hadn't been as hard as she expected tonight after all. After a moment, he sighed and gave a small nod of his head. She smiled a little, wishing she could do more for him, wishing she could stop the nightmares completely, but she knew she couldn't. Just like, close as he was, he couldn't stop hers. He could only help her when she was back in the real world. And it was the same for him. It was just harder for him, to admit that something as harmless as a dream could shake him as much as it did, but the fact that he could put his pride aside and let her bring him comfort was a big step for him.

So she smiled gave the shoulder her chin had been perched upon a final kiss and pulled away. "Come on," she urged, settling back down against the mattress and opening her arms for him. Every night she fell asleep with him holding her, but on these rare occasions it was her that got to hold him. He nestled himself down next to her mirroring her own actions from earlier, clutching her hip and resting his head against the joint by her shoulder. Gluing himself to her like he might never let her go. She brushed his hair back away from his eyes, and let the fine hairs filter through her fingers a few times. She smiled, trying to keep the tears of bliss out of her eyes. Moments like this were too beautiful for her not to shed a tear. How could she ever have thought this precious man a terrible beast?

"Just close your eyes," she muttered softly, encouraging "go to sleep." Nightmares came in different shapes and sizes, and people dealt with them differently. To each their own. Their nightmares and bad dreams were as different as they could be, just like the two of them were. But it was how they dealt with it that was similar, whether he knew it or not, "I'll be here when you wake up."


	54. Questionable Drawings

After dinner was through, she sat at the table and picked up the pieces of paper she had been working on that day again. The first day that he had told her about the bulletin board where people were posting pictures she had requested art supplies. He had forgotten for the longest time, but yesterday she had finally mastered the art of making a telephone call and reminded him before he left the shop. He had returned promptly yesterday night with paper, pencils to sketch with, and waxy utensils covered in paper he called crayons. It had given her something to do today since the house was practically clean. Already the difference that she could see in it was startling and she couldn't feel more proud for that. It wasn't finished but she was glad for the change of activities and it was good enough without her touch for a couple of days.

She had been sketching and drawing all day, until he arrived home that night. She had cooked dinner and so as per their unspoken agreement, he cleared away the dishes, washed and loaded them into the dishwasher, turned on that dreadful sounding garbage disposal, and was now finishing up by wiping the counters thoroughly. At first she had thought that he wasn't the domestic sort, it must have been the state of the house when she'd first come to stay. She'd tried to help him, feeling bad for making him walk around with a bad leg, but she soon found that he did in fact know how to do a lot of the work and he could move fairly well even with the cane in one hand, but for whatever reason he just chose not to do it before she arrived. She liked to think that it was her presence that had prompted this change in him.

She finished sketching the picture of her father and inspected it before she held it up for him to see, "what do you think?" she asked. He wrung out the rag in his hands and turned to look at it over his shoulder. His face changed, for a second anger flared maybe even something like panic, then there was nothing at all. It was like he was trying to be disconnected from the man on the paper, to not feel anything. It was the strangest reaction she'd ever seen him give. What could possibly prompt that kind of response from him?

She had opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, when he finally muttered, "I think it's surprisingly detailed," then turned and deposited the rag over the faucet. At his comment, she looked it over. It was detailed but she had wanted it that way. She figured the more detailed it was the more likely it was that someone would be able to find her father. "I didn't know you could draw," he said, coming to sit in the chair next to her.

"I was a Princess," she explained with an indifferent shrug. "It would have been improper not to learn how to draw. Besides," she glanced over at him with her eye brows raised "I didn't know you could clean."

He smirked, "There was a time a long before you were born that I didn't have a caretaker to rely upon. And good help is always hard to find, no matter what realm you're in." She laughed and shook her head at the comment. So much had changed since she'd last heard those words. She was about to make another careful retort of her own when she was suddenly aware of his hand reaching out across her to the black and white picture she had finished sketching earlier that morning. She hadn't added color yet. She'd been waiting for his final approval before doing that. "I still don't understand why you need to find him," he muttered staring at the picture of Gaston with disgust. That reaction she understood, he'd told her just what he thought of Gaston before. Much as she hated to be cruel she couldn't deny that his assumptions of the man he had met only once had been correct. But of course she would never admit such a thing.

"Well," she sighed taking the picture from him, she'd had to think about it herself when she first started drawing. "As shallow as he was, I did know him my whole life. I didn't love him enough to want to be married to him, but he was more of a brother." She looked at the stern face staring back at her, the image still making her want to roll her eyes. "I just want to know he's alright, for my own peace of mind. I don't suppose you've seen either of them around town have you," she asked coyly, glancing at him under her eyelashes. But he didn't answer, in fact he acted like he hadn't even heard her. He just kept staring at that picture in her hands with a certain amount of sadness in his eyes. Was that jealousy? She didn't know he was capable of that, nor why he should feel that way about Gaston when he knew how she felt about him…and how she felt about Gaston for that matter.

She put her pencil down, placed the picture of Gaston on the table face down, so they didn't have to look at it, and took his hands in her own. "Love comes in different forms Rumple. I love you differently than I love my father and much stronger than anything I ever felt for Gaston. Just like you don't love me the same way you loved your son." He stared at her, his grip on her hands tightening at her words. The topic of his son had not been breached since that day back in his castle. Now that it was she wanted badly to know more about it.

But the mention hadn't gone unnoticed by him and he responded quickly to the topic at hand. "I know," he answered sounding confident, but his face failed him. He still didn't like that she was going to look for him, that much was clear. She felt guilty for causing that kind of pain and questioning, that kind of hurt she saw now in his eyes. What could she do? Should she give up? Should she tear the paper in two and not look for Gaston at all? She could, but somehow she thought that it might be too late. It wouldn't erase what had already been done, and at the end of the day, she really did want to know Gaston was alright. But that was where her curiosity stopped, concerning him.

A sigh of deep anguish escaped her mouth. She needed a break, they both did. She could finish this tomorrow. This was their time. She waited all day for him to come home, to spend a few precious hours in his company. This was the little time they had and she wanted to spend it with him, not the images of Gaston or her father. Sometimes they talked but sometimes they didn't. Sometimes she read while he restored some knick knack he had brought home or spun wool thread at the wheel she had found and placed in the living room for his use. She didn't really care what they chose so long as they were together while doing it. But today she knew exactly what she wanted to do. The outside world was calling her name. It often did, but she had not broken his advisement not to leave the house without him since that terrible night only days ago. Now she just wanted to sit out in it with him at her side.

"Come on, let's sit out back" she rose quickly and he looked at her with questioning eyes, her sudden movement startling him. But nevertheless she pulled on the hand that she held and he stood, allowing her to lead him to the back patio.

It was a beautiful day. She had wanted to bask in it all day, now that he was home, that she was sure she was safe with him, she took a deep breath in through her nose and planted herself on the stone steps. After a few moments of awkward fumbling he sat down besides her, squinting against the sunset. Perfection. She beamed with comfort as she locked her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder. Content to let the bright sun touch her face and the cool breeze lift the hair on the back of her neck and flutter the dress that fell around her calves. The smell of the earth and the trees and shrubs around them refreshed her mind and made her feel happy and renewed. It fixed her anxieties. Stilled her fears. Took her mind to a place where nothing but this moment mattered. She was happier right here than she could ever remember being.

Apparently it didn't have the same effect on him. "Why, exactly, are we sitting here?" he asked after a moment of silence, annoyance shinning through in his voice. She knew that somehow he wouldn't appreciate the perfection of the moment as much as she did. How could he? He got to go outside any time he wanted, now and for the past twenty-eight years.

"We are enjoying each other's company and the wonderful weather," she informed him. "Since you prefer me to stay in the house while you're out, this is the only time I have." Still she could feel that he wasn't as relaxed as her. She knew why, and it wasn't because they were sitting outside. His mind was still back at the table, and through her happiness a pang of guilt managed to work its way into her head. She hadn't known those silly drawings would cause him so much upset. She didn't know that he could be jealous. They were truly in love, how could he ever doubt that anyone, including someone like Gaston would come between them? "I love _you_, Rumple," she insisted "Whether or not I find my father and Gaston won't change that fact."

"I know," he repeated, this time she could hear the stress in his voice and when she looked up the sight of him sitting outside on the steps in his nice shirt, tie, and suit pants was enough to make her smirk. "You told me you didn't care for him," he whispered, drawing her mind back to the serious discussion at hand. It had been so long ago since she'd told him that back at his castle. It had been such a different life then, but the feelings were still the same as they had been then, she couldn't stop that.

"Not as a husband, not as anything more than a sibling, or someone I'd known my entire life. Not like I love you," she said squeezing his arm.

"And your father…"

"Whether or not he approves isn't something I care about," she interrupted with a sting in her voice. She was trying to remember that they weren't fighting, but her reassurances didn't seem to be working. He could be protective, she knew that, but this was different than his desire to simply keep her close. Just because she might find them didn't mean that she would leave him, not again. No, she didn't want to fight with him about finding her family, she wanted him to know that there was nothing on this earth that could ever separate them. He was good to her, he had promised her honesty and there was nothing more that she wanted from him than that. No one else would ever mean more to her than him. And no one could make her feel as much as he did. When he appeared in her life, whether she had known it or not, he had taken with him the days when someone would make her do things she didn't want to do. No one would ever make her do anything she didn't want, never again, and if he was what she wanted then no one could ever say anything to take her away. And that included her father.

She turned and rested her chin against his bony shoulder, smiling at him as she fought to keep the sun out of her eyes with a squint. He stared at the stone under his feet, not looking at her. He tapped the tips of his fingers together, and she slid the hand locked at his elbow along his arm until their fingers were entwined. "I left them once for a reason," she pointed out "They didn't understand me, they didn't see me, and I doubt they ever will. Not like you do, no one sees me like you do." She sighed, seeing still no change in his expression, no response. How much longer would this continue? How much longer would it take for him to see that she wasn't going to walk away from him? "You were the better option once and you're not just the better option now," she tried again "you're the only option." Finally he glanced down at her, the shadow he cast shading her eyes so that she could see him clearly. She meant it, every word, and that was surprising all on its own. She just needed him to know that it was the truth. "I have no intention of returning to the life they planned for me. I just need to know that they are ok."

They stared for a while, exchanging deep glances that she hoped allowed him to see the truth of her words. Then, finally, a smile bloomed on his face. "I believe you," he answered, this time she could tell he was satisfied with the answer. Relief reverberated off of her as the tension in his shoulders finally eased. She shifted ever so slightly pulling him closer so that she could kiss his cheek then laid her head back against his shoulder, soaking in the feeling of sitting next to him in the sun, without any hindrance, mental or physical, between them. He returned the favor by squeezing her hand and kissing the top of her head before turning back and resting his cheek gently against the top of her head. The feeling of perfect contentment fluttered in her belly again. She was happy that she had finally made her point, that he finally seemed to understand.

"If I finish those drawings tomorrow will you take them into town for me?" she said after the sun had gone down and they were beginning to think about gathering themselves up to go back inside. She hadn't wanted to return to the subject too soon, but it was a minor detail.

She watched him stare out at the lawn before them, emotionless yet again. Then, after a few more moments of silence, he nodded "I'll take care of it."


	55. Dreams of Another World

She'd read the book over and over again. She'd cleaned the house as best as she could. She had even given the thing that he called a "television" a try. And while it could hold her interest for a while, ultimately it was no use. She was bored. She'd finished the intensive cleaning only two days ago and while she'd initially felt happy and proud of that, now she only regretted it. Now there was nothing to do day by day. Nothing to plan on, nothing to look forward to, and nothing to hold her attention. And it left her lots of time to think and stew.

She'd been in this house ever since the curse had broken and she was beginning to get sick of staring at the same walls every day. Of waiting for him to come home just so she could have the company, just so she could have someone to talk to. She felt terrible for feeling this way day in and day out. Wasn't this what she had wanted? To be with him? She should just be content with that, not irritated and spending her days looking out the window at what seemed like a very calm world. She shouldn't care what lay in town, only here. And yet with every passing day she grew more and more curious, more and more anxious, and more and more bored.

She just didn't understand. What was so bad about going into town? If she was with him then nothing would be able to harm her. She wouldn't be in any danger. She just wanted to do something different! But she knew what he would say, what he would want her to do. "The town is unsafe, stay inside please," he would say "it's not an order just a request". He'd repeated it so many times that she had memorized the words, although initially it had been only an "advisement" and not a "request".

Behind her the clock struck, telling her that he would be home soon and she pushed off the window ledge she'd been sitting on and walked into the kitchen with a sigh. They had their routine. She would make a cup of tea for herself, and start dinner so that it was done when he came home, they would have a small conversation over dinner, which would continue while he cleaned up afterward, and then they'd get a few hours to spend in each other's company before they went upstairs for bed, woke up the next morning and waited again until he came home for dinner the next night. She filled the kettle and set it on the burner expertly turning the knob like she'd been doing it her entire life, to heat the water.

He hated this routine. It made him feel guilty, like he was treating her as nothing more than a glorified version of the caretaker that she had been to him before hand. He'd tried everything that he could think of to try and dissuade her from doing the house work and chores. She didn't mind doing the house work. She was so restless and it gave her something to do to at least keep busy. But of course she wanted to do more, and she could think of about a million other things that she would rather be doing with her time.

She'd rather go into town. She'd rather taste the food that was at this Grandmother's place that he called "Granny's". She would rather take a walk around the block. Walk around the town. Go to the local library. Read a book out on a lawn without supervision. Explore his shop and every other shop inside the small town. Make a friend. Shop for the food herself. Learn to drive the car. Look for her father. Go swimming. Anything!

The kettle began to whistle and she poured it into a cup and set the tea bag inside to soak. Then walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the pork roll she'd set there to defrost for the dinner tonight, and began to pull out the pans and vegetables that she would need.

She'd mastered this kitchen. She'd only meant for it to be a place to start, until she could leave the house and then explore the world outside without being completely ignorant. But she had achieved this goal weeks ago; learning something new every day, naming it in her head, and getting the real name only when he came home and could answer any other questions that she had about it. He had commented everyday on how fast she had learned. So why would he doubt she would learn the tricks of a town, safe or unsafe?

She shoved the pan into the hot oven and closed it before washing her hands at the sink. Then she turned around absent mindedly and leaned against the counter, looking out the window at the back door. Her mind wandered back to all those things that she'd rather be doing, losing her conscious thought to the brighter memories and activities. But of course none of these options were sanctioned. It wasn't that she didn't want to stay safe, and it wasn't that she thought that it wasn't a dangerous world. She just thought that he was taking her safety and the state of the town to an unhealthy extreme. The way he made it sound, anyone who stepped off his front porch was picked up by a dragon and carried away to their death. Surely it couldn't be that bad. She was much more capable of taking care of herself than he seemed to think. She was much stronger than she seemed and definitely too smart to just walk into a trap again. And it wasn't like she was asking to go outside by herself anyway. She wanted him to show her, to take her outside, to introduce her slowly to this world as he'd introduced her to this kitchen and the rest of his home. She wasn't asking for the world, just a small part of his.

A loud ding suddenly distracted her and she realized that she'd been staring out the window for almost an hour daydreaming. Enough time for the pork to cook. Enough time that he would be home any moment. She pulled the hot pads out of the drawer and set the pan on the counter to cool. Her tea had gone cold while she had been immersed in her daydream and she dumped it down the sink before filling the kettle again to make a new pot. She ran around the kitchen, making herself busy again as she set the table for two. But as she reached across the counter for another tea cup, she misjudged the distance and her forearm touched the side of the hot pan. "Ouch!" She dropped the cup and it shattered as she held her arm to her body.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd burned herself, and it wasn't that big of a burn, but it still hurt. She tiptoed around the remains of the cup she'd dropped and turned the cool water on at the sink, feeling relief as it flowed over her arm. She'd been distracted, silly not to have noticed the pan. She examined the long red mark through the flow of water. It didn't look too bad, and she didn't think it would leave a scar. But she'd rather not have it in the first place. Nevertheless, some ice from the freezer would keep it from getting much worse

She heard the front door open and close and his voice call out her name, her heart dropped in a mix of frustration and disappointment. "In here," she called back, shaking her head at herself. What a time for him to walk into the house? She wanted him to see her as competent not hurt with bits of tea cup laying everywhere. She prayed he wouldn't notice. But sure enough when he hobbled into the kitchen he took one look around and asked, "What happened here?"

She shook her head, "burned myself," she said trying to act like it was no big deal, like this happened all the time.

"Let me see," he said right away shutting off the water and holding out his hand for her arm.

"It's fine," she insisted, thinking that it wasn't now that the cool comforting water was gone. Fortunately at the moment the tea kettle chose to start whistling and he raised his head at the noise. He made his way over to the kettle, shut off the stove and moved it off the heat.

"What broke?" he asked sternly, stepping over the pieces on the floor.

"A tea cup," she answered angrily. His voice irritated her. The situation irritated her. This entire house irritated her. She wanted him to know that this wasn't what it was like when he was gone. She hadn't burned herself since her first days at the castle and she hadn't broken a dish since she'd chipped her own tea cup. This wasn't what it was like all the time.

"Let me see," he repeated stepping up to her side. Before she could stop him and reach for some ice he had placed his hand over the burn. Her sensitive skin twitched and pain flared at the contact but then a feeling of cool spread outward from it and when he pulled his hand away she found that the red mark had disappeared. Something about him healing her irritated her. She couldn't put her finger on why, it just did. She turned away from the sink and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You didn't have to do that," her voice was cool, something he seemed to pick up on. He shifted his weight and took a step back from her. He could tell that she was upset, that something was bothering her, and he looked panicked. Something about the action stirred a pang of guilt from somewhere deep down. He didn't need to be afraid of her, so why was he suddenly acting like he was preparing for an attack.

"It's not a problem," he smiled nervously.

"Ice, cool water, and a bandage would have worked just fine," she pointed out, desperately trying to get herself to relax.

"You would prefer to remain injured?" he asked with a sparkle in his eye. He was resorting to humor. And by the look in his eyes she could see that he thought he had her. Logically at least. She couldn't say "yes" because who wanted to deal with a burn. But she couldn't say "no" either because what else was there but for him to heal her. But the world wasn't as simple as he thought it was. And neither was she.

"I would prefer not to have to rely on magic for the slightest things," she countered. He wasn't the only one who could play word games using intellect. She was probably the only one in the world that was a fair match for his own.

He hadn't been expecting her to answer in that way but then she wasn't really sure what he expected "is something wrong?" he asked cautiously. She could tell that he was curious but also weary of whatever answer she might give. Maybe he suspected what she was going to say. Maybe he knew what was "wrong." Or maybe it was because he didn't know how to fix it?

"I don't suppose things are better in town?" It was both a statement and a question because she really didn't expect the answer to be any different than it had been from the last million times she felt like she had asked it.

"Unstable," he breathed, like he was so used to saying it that he didn't even have to think about it. He didn't even act like he was tired of saying it, but rather like he didn't know why she needed to keep asking.

"Still?" she asked pressing the subject further. "After all these weeks the town hasn't put itself back together yet, hasn't calmed down in the slightest?"

"With Snow White and her daughter gone and the Evil Queen running free?"

"And you've had no word on the whereabouts of my father or Gaston?"

He smiled again "I promise you I took care of it." She let out a disappointing sigh. Part of her was beginning to wonder if it was the truth. But it had to be. In the first place she could tell that he wasn't lying by the look on his face. And in the second place he'd never go back on a deal. He had promised her honesty. She had upheld part of her end of the deal so she had to believe that he was upholding his own. Frankly she hadn't even been enforcing her end of the deal because she didn't want to ask questions and make him uncomfortable just for the sake of asking questions and making him uncomfortable! Shouldn't that consideration have gotten her one trip into town!

"Belle, what's gotten into you?" he asked with a disbelieving and confused voice.

She was just as confused as he was, she never acted this way. Never raised her voice like her father. Never used that haughty voice that her grandmother did. But then again, she'd never felt more trapped, more antsy, more useless in her entire life. At least when she'd been at the castle she'd had access to her library, he'd been around during the day, and she could listen to the comings and goings of others. Here there was no one and nothing to do but clean and cook. Nothing for her. It was worse than acting as if nothing had changed.

"I'm bored, Rumple," she admitted sadly. Because that was really at the heart of the issue. She was left alone all day with nothing to do but wait for him to come home. And she hated feeling that way. "I want to leave this place. I want to do something besides sit here all day, besides feel like I'm still just a caretaker."

His face suddenly contorted like he was in pain "I've never asked,-"

"I know!" she interrupted louder than she meant to, feeling guilty because he really hadn't asked her to be a caretaker, in fact he'd specifically told her she didn't have to do those things. So then what had he asked her to do? Nothing. "I know, you didn't," she repeated.

There was a moment of silence, when they both just stared at each other, wondering what they wanted the other one to do. The moment sobered her. Brought her back to herself and cleared her mind. Her life was non-existent. She had nothing outside of this house, and the only thing she felt like she truly had that made her happy every day was him. She wasn't willing to sacrifice that one thing tonight just because she was restless. With a heavy defeated sigh she stepped forward and put her arms around his neck. It took him a moment to respond, to put his arms around her, and another moment for them to tighten. "Tell me what to do," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me what to do to make you happy."

Take her to town. Take her to the shop. No. She wanted to. She wanted to go back to town more than anything. But she had to believe that he was telling her the truth about the town. She couldn't ask him to put her in danger. He might actually do it and he would be on his guard, tense and unhappy, the entire time. And knowing that he was uncomfortable would not make anything better. It would only make her feel worse than she did just sitting here day by day.

"Nothing," she answered with a small disappointed smile. There was no answer, there was no way out, until the town put itself back together, there was nothing to be done.


	56. Thoughtful Surprises

She sat once again on her ledge, not bothering to do the chores, not even bothering to read, just looking. Just miserable that the world seemed so close to her and yet so far away, separated only by a single thin sheet of glass. She sighed and looked around the house for a moment, considering if she should do something, anything, instead of sitting here and sulking, then decided that there was no point. Everything was as clean as it was going to get. She turned back to the window and her eyes met with something that surprised her.

He was home! It was only morning though! He never came back until noon for lunch. He was like clockwork. But it was barely 9:30. What was he doing here now? She pushed herself off the ledge and ran for the door. Something must be wrong to draw him back here so soon. "What's happened?" she asked him, before he could even get to the door.

He smiled at her and placed a hand at her back, leading her back into the safety of the precious house. What was going on? Why was he smiling? And if nothing was wrong then why was he here? "I don't want to get your hopes up," he muttered closing the door behind them. Her eye brows furrowed as she looked at him, what was he talking about? "We're not going into town, but there is somewhere I want to take you." Take her? Out of the house? Away from here?!

She felt her jaw drop and her heart race as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. He could take her to the moon and back just so long as she wasn't going to be in the house any longer. She was so happy she felt like she could barely contain it. He'd actually listened to her when she said that she wanted out of the house! What more could she ask? She pulled away and looked at him. "When do we leave?" she asked eagerly.

"Right now, if you're ready," he answered with a smile.

"I am," she practically shouted with a smile so big it hurt her cheeks. "I mean," she had to take a deep breath and remember to calm herself down. She was just going to leave the house, there was no promise that they were going anywhere spectacular but she was just so excited to get out that he could take her to a pile of compost and she would be happy! She just wanted to go somewhere else, she didn't care where. "I think I am. Do I need anything?" she asked, wondering where exactly he was going to take her if it wasn't into town.

"Not a thing. Unless, of course, there is something that you wish to bring." She shook her head. All she wanted was to leave. "Come with me," he took hold of one of her hands and led her out of the house and into his car.

It was a strange feeling, pulling away from the house, instead of watching the car roll away from it. They didn't go towards town, the way that came home from every night, instead they went the opposite direction. As they drove she watched the houses that they passed by. None seemed to be quite as big as his was but she enjoyed watching them. They were beautiful, all of them different, all of them extraordinary. She'd never seen anything like them in their world. She'd seen and lived in castles, she'd seen and lived in tents and small cottages, but she'd never seen anything like these houses. Then she watched as things began to change, the houses started to be fewer and smaller even. The forest seemed to be growing up around them until she realized that they were overtaking the entire area and there were no more houses. Eventually he turned the car off of the black road and onto one made up completely of dirt. They were driving deeper into a forest.

It was away from civilization, certainly, but somehow she didn't mind that. It reminded her of home, of all the time she'd spend in the forests, of all the time she'd walked on roads like this, and of that beautiful moment that they'd shared only a few weeks ago when her memory had returned. So it wasn't in town, it was out of the house, it was in the wilderness, in the fresh air and she was finally happy. The only thing she wanted was to know what they were doing out here. Visiting a lake? Going on a Picnic?

Suddenly the car turned a corner and she could make something out through the trees, a clearing of some sort. After they got closer, and the brush thinned she could see very clearly. It was a wooden house. A plain, small, wooden house sitting all by itself in the middle of the woods. It looked so much like something out of their world that if it wasn't for her clothes and the car she would have thought that they'd gone back. "Where are we?" she asked curiously, wondering who lived here and why they were stopping.

"This is my cabin," he answered honestly a smile hiding behind his expression of calm. She looked at the house before her. Cabin. At last, something new after weeks of endless repetition!

"Your cabin? Another house?" she asked skeptically. He nodded and she took in his words, confused. He had two houses. Why did he need two houses? He was barely at the first house he owned. Was it like their world? Where powerful individuals had different houses for different seasons? "You live here too?" she asked.

"Well," he sighed, "Not really, but it is mine. I made a deal, a very long time ago, with Regina for wealth and comfort in this world," he explained. "This just came with it," he explained with a shrug.

She looked out the window at the house that stood dark and yet sturdy before her. "I hope she got something decent out of it."

He said nothing, but she didn't miss the smirk that started at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, I'll show you around," he said opening his door. She got out of the car and followed him up to the house, looking around the exterior of the cabin. The roof hung over the front part of it so that on rainy days he could comfortably drag a chair outside and watch the rain fall without getting wet. And there was a stack of logs piled on the far end so that on snowy days the logs wouldn't get wet and he could sit inside and make a fire. She looked at the forest around her, imagining what it would be like for the entire area to be covered with thick white snow and to sit inside reading a book by a nice warm fire as she watched the flakes drift down to the forest floor. "Belle," she turned back to him and saw that he was holding the door open. She stopped staring and walked into the cabin, her shoes clicking oddly against the wood that made up the floor.

It wasn't very big, at least not as big as his house, but it was still nice. In fact she liked it better. It had the same feel of his shop, warm and protective. In a way it almost seemed to suit him better than his house did. But it was obvious that he didn't come here that often, an inch of dust covered a lot of the plain wooden surfaces, there was no clutter here, and it smelled musty, like it didn't often have the windows open to air it out. She walked over to the one closest to her and opened it wide, letting the cool air flow into the stuffy cabin. The light breeze outside made her take a deep breath in through her nose and she smelled dirt, foaming water, and pine needles.

This was wonderful.

She glanced over her shoulder and could see into the kitchen area which contained a refrigerator, stove, and an oven. It was all the comforts that made this world great but with all the sounds, sights, and smells that she had been missing from their world. It was a glorious clashing of the two. And to top it all off, she was here with him. It wasn't town. But it was just as good in her mind. "I know it's not much, but…"

"It's perfect," she interrupted, looking over at him from her place by the window. She was suddenly sad that she hadn't brought her book with her. This would be the best place to get some reading done. But she was sure there had to be something to read here, she really didn't care what she read so long as she could.

"You can do anything you like here," he said to her with a happy tone, like he had been gauging her reaction to the cabin and now that it had been positive he was trying to hold back his relief and happiness. "No one knows we are here and very few know where this place is or that I own it. You can go outside any time you wish, go anywhere you desire, although I must ask of you to remain somewhat close by as I cannot make promises that you won't come across a few hikers. There's even a lake if you feel so inclined to swim although I doubt its warm enough. Maine weather rarely gets warm enough, even in the summer time…."

She smiled to herself, he was rambling. He was still trying to make her happy, not realizing that he already had. It was something different, and that was all she really wanted. She made her way slowly over to him and placed her hands against those on his cane. "You did this for me?" she asked, watching his face suddenly turn to one of sadness. She didn't know what caused that, she'd meant for him to be happy, to realize how grateful she was for such a thoughtful surprise, and for him to break into a pleased smile. But he didn't, instead his eyes just continued to look into hers. Questioning.

"I know it's not town," he whispered staring down at their hands entwined on the top of the cane. "And I know that I haven't been around as often as I should be, old habits," he explained away "are hard to break. I just…" words seemed to fail him suddenly and her heart beat against her chest as she watched his face, finally identifying the emotion on his face. Guilt. Was it her words? Was it what she had said yesterday? On the one hand she regretted those words but on the other hand they'd made him bring her here, and she wasn't sure that she could feel bad about that. However she would admit that she would have to learn to use different words, and maybe a less angry tone. Something that would allow her to share her thoughts and emotions with him, without making him feel terrible. Because it only made her feel guilty.

"Rumple," she said sternly, making him meet her eyes. "It's perfect," she repeated "Thank you, for, for all this."

Finally he gave her a small smile, convinced that she really was happy about where he had brought her. "It's not forever," he insisted, making himself perfectly clear before she could get her hopes up. "It's only for a few days, but after that we can plan trips to come back," she smiled and wrapped her arms suddenly around his neck burying her head there against his shoulder, fighting tears of gratitude. She loved this spot.

"Thank you," she whispered again as he suddenly seemed to catch up with what she had done and wrapped his arm around her.

"My darling, Belle" he murmured into her ear. "I just want you to be happy with me."

She had to fight even more to hold back the tears now. He'd listened to her, it took a harsh tone, but he hadn't ignored or dismissed her words. He'd listened. What more could she have asked from him? She pulled her chin off of his shoulder and kissed him for several long, glorious, minutes before resting her forehead against his own. It wasn't just that he took her out of the house that was beginning to feel like her new cage. It was him. If he had planned to just leave her here it wouldn't be much of a difference and she suspected that she'd be just as miserable as she was at the house. But she hadn't missed the mention of the 'we' in his explanation. They were staying here together, and that was a type of isolation that she really craved. "You make me happy," she whispered "that's all I need."

He smiled and let out a breath of relief as her words seemed to calm his nerves. "So," he whispered all the tension dissipating from the room "what would you like to do first?"


	57. Enough For Now

She had done everything that she wanted to do at the cabin. She'd spent an entire day outside, reading a book that he had bought her just for this trip, _The Mysterious Island _by Jules Vern, in fact she'd already read it once since they'd been here. She'd braved the cold air and gone swimming in the lake, only lasting a few minutes before she had to come back inside and shower in warm water to make herself stop shaking. He'd even made them a lunch one day and taken them into the woods, far away from the sight of the cabin and had a picnic. He didn't wear the suit jacket, or the vest, or the tie, but she found the sight of him hiking in pants and shoes like that somewhat funny. She supposed he really didn't have anything else to wear. Then again she didn't know what would suit him in this world, as she really hadn't seen what else men could wear besides nurses scrubs, and somehow the leather pants and tall boots he had worn in their world just wouldn't look the same without his greenish gold skin and reptile eyes.

She felt like a child again up here. But in a good way. She was finally able to play and explore, feeding her own curiosity while he watched from somewhere nearby soothing his own worry. And when she was honest with herself, half of her joy was having him near her all the time. Not just at night when she slept. He was there when she woke up, he was there when she ate breakfast, he was there when she wanted to read, and when they went to bed he was right by her side as always. They had their conversations, but sometimes they just spent time in each other's company. He had a spinning wheel here, of course, and her happiest hour might have been when the sky poured down rain and there was nothing but the squeak of the wheel, the water pounding the roof, and the paper of the book as she turned each page. She found the solitude more than tolerable with him there. So long as she had the other half of her heart, she felt better than she did alone with nothing to do in the house by herself.

But soon enough it was over, and when she woke up three days later he'd told her as he made breakfast that they would have to go back tomorrow morning. The words felt like a lead weight in her stomach. She found herself sitting down onto the couch and let the idea sink into her. She knew that they couldn't stay up here forever, alone and isolated from the rest of the world. But she'd been having such a good time. She hadn't been thinking about leaving, she'd been thinking about what she could do instead of what she couldn't do, about the time she had with him not the times when they would be separated again for hours at a time.

She felt suddenly as sad as she'd been before he'd brought her here. Knowing what she was going back to, long days by herself spent cleaning and reading in a quiet old house, wasn't helping that feeling. The house was big enough but she'd take this small cabin with him in it to the lonely existence of that house any day. How had their time passed by so quickly?!

"I told you when we first got here that we couldn't stay forever," he reminded her. She looked up at him hovering over the stove, examining her with sympathetic eyes. He hadn't read her mind, just her expression. It was the same talent that she had with him.

"I know," she responded, unable to keep the sullen disappointed tone out of her voice. She was grateful, really she was, that he had brought her up here. She was happy to have had these few days with him, and at the time it had felt like the answer to all her prayers. But now that she was faced with leaving these days behind she arrived at a startling conclusion: they just weren't enough. And now the prospect of returning to the house was invading her mind again, making her just as angry as she had been the night before they came here.

She heard a click as he turned the burner that he'd been cooking over off and hunched himself against the counter. Tension flooded his shoulders and he stared at the counter but she knew that he wasn't really taking in the images before him. He'd receded deep into his mind, he was contemplating something. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that it was upsetting him, and she knew it had something to do with her. "I'm sorry," she muttered. Whatever this issue was she had to deal with it. She couldn't allow it to effect him like this. It was unfair. "I know we have to go back, I just, wasn't prepared for it to come so fast," she admitted gloomily.

He finally looked up at her with sad eyes, and she wished she'd never said the words. She wished he'd never reminded her that she couldn't stay out here together forever. She should have just nodded and eaten her breakfast and gone off into the forest to sulk on her own. "I know your life isn't perfect," he muttered "but it's safe."

"I understand that," she said with that same argumentative tone in her voice that she'd had back at the house. "And I appreciate that I'm protected, I just-"

"Just what," he questioned with a dark tone. How did they get back to arguing? Things had been so perfect until this morning and they still had a day to themselves. She didn't want to spend that day arguing and fighting with him. Certainly there were better things to do. But then, if the words went unsaid, how was it ever going to get better? Was she just supposed to continue to suffer in silence? That was what he did, and it annoyed her beyond belief. She hadn't wanted them to fight, hadn't wanted them to argue but maybe they needed to. She knew that he might not like what she had to say, that he could get irritated if she pressed certain subjects, but she firmly believed in leading by example. And if these thoughts and feelings, these problems, were his, she would want him to tell her what was wrong. And what would not telling, not pressing the issue fix? Nothing. Nothing would change, if she held it inside. And how long would it last anyway?! What if the town never put itself together? Was he just going to keep her in that house for the rest of her life? Was he just going to let her rot away safely in his home?

The night before he had brought her here she had let it slip that she needed a change of scenery and he had listened. He'd brought her here! Maybe he would listen again. He always had an answer for everything, maybe together they could figure out a safe way for her to go into town that they could both be happy with. "I'm just bored-,"

"You've told me that."

"-I wasn't finished." He had that look on his face again. The surprised look, shocked. People didn't often stand up to him. In their world people didn't stand up to him and expect to live. Confrontation was hardest for him when he wasn't in control of the situation. That was when he got defensive, which was when he put up a wall and got aggressive. "I'm bored, Rumple," she said strongly but in a gentle voice, not argumentative just informative. "I sit at home all day long while you're gone," she explained. "Nothing to do but clean and I know that you didn't ask me to do it, but that's even worse," she was vaguely aware of the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She knew that she'd held the words in, but she didn't know that she'd needed to let them out this much.

"It makes me feel useless," as soon as she'd said the words it felt like a weight on her heart had been lifted. "I need to feel like I have a purpose in life. I need to feel like I am important. That there is a reason I am in this world, with you! I need to know that there is something I can do besides sit at home and be a caretaker!"

And finally she'd reached the heart of it all. When she had been taken by the Queen, she'd felt strong. She'd felt sure of herself. She felt like she had a purpose in the world, like she was a hero in some small way. But now she felt like she'd taken multiple steps backward. She had him, and that was what she'd always wanted, she just imagined their life being more exciting and eventful than her sitting in a house all day long.

"I was useless once, a long time ago, before we met," she pointed out, remembering the times she'd sat in the war room pretending to read books just so she could learn what was going on, remembering all the times that someone had patted her on the head and told her not to worry too much, and thinking about all those times the only purpose, only thing she was supposed to look forward to, was marrying Gaston and having a child. She was happy she'd been spared from it, but right now, she didn't feel like the life she had in his house was any better. "You saved me from that, and I never wanted to have that life again. Please, don't ask me to live it now."

He looked at her for a long while. She braced herself for an angry Rumpelstiltskin, a defensive tone, maybe even for him to storm out of the house. Instead he stood before her, leaning against his cane with so much pressure that his knuckles had turned white. "You're not useless," he said in a small voice. It was a guilty voice, like he was sad that he didn't have anything better to say.

"If I'm not useless then what am I good for?" she asked in a harsh tone. "I'm no better than a prisoner in a luxurious cell."

"You are not being held prisoner," he argued, offense at her words peppering his tone. "You are safe."

She shook her head. That excuse was nothing to her any more. She was tired of it. "I am capable of protecting myself. I know the town is chaotic but I faced a Yaoguai I think I can handle a town of half cursed human beings."

His eyes widened at her words. "You faced a," his face crinkled "No, that doesn't matter. Later." He rubbed his hand over his face, dismissing the story she had yet to tell him in their short time together. "You were still captured by Regina," he pointed out, a look of pride on his face that he was able to counter her argument.

"Do you really think that she's going to come after me again?!" she raised her eye brows at him. She doubted she would, he'd said it himself, she had enough to worry about she had to be low on that list.

She expected his answer to be flustered, maybe even angry. She didn't expect that he would give her a confused sigh and gentle shake of the head. "I honestly don't know what to expect from her right now," he said, then stepped forward and took the seat next to her. It was a good sign, he'd come closer to her, not farther.

"Well, I imagine that being trapped in a town full of the people that she cursed hasn't exactly put her in a place with time to come searching for me," she pointed out sternly, copying his earlier logic. It was the best argument there was: truthful and his own. How could he possibly find fault in it?

"Do you really want to risk that?" he dared, matching her own sharp tone. There were too many emotions passing through his face as they talked. Fear, anger, guilt, even sadness, but the meaning behind them wasn't clear to her. Why was he so afraid to let him go into town? What was it that had him so spooked? She could ask him about it. She sensed it had something to do with his past, and she could ask him about it, but she'd been refraining from doing that, even with their bargain in place. She knew that it made him uneasy and she wasn't going to ask him something just for the sake of asking him something. She wanted there to be a purpose behind it. Or, dare she even hope, one day he might want to share his past with her all on his own. Whatever it was behind the thoughts in his head and the expressions on his face, this wasn't the time to ask. He was tense as it was, and she was surprised with how well, how calm, this conversation had turned out. She didn't want to change that, not on their last day.

She moved closer to him, resting against his side as she threaded her hand through his arm. "I'm not asking for the world Rumple. I'm not even asking for the town. I just don't see the harm in going with you to the store for the day. Even if I never leave the back room," baby steps worked well with him. If she took too much of a leap he would get scared. The shop one day, the town another time. Just so long as she had something more to look forward to than a purposeless existence alone in his house. His face was unmoving, refusing her request, and she feared that once again she would be reduced to speaking his language. But she wasn't going to settle any more. She couldn't just sweep these problems under the rug and ignore them. That wasn't how things were between them. And she didn't have to take orders from him. She didn't exactly want to upset him by not honoring a request that she was certain was made out of true concern. But she also didn't want to stay in that house any more. "One week," she muttered against his shoulder. "I'll wait one more week for the town to collect itself, and if it's still a mess, still chaotic, after that week then we'll brave it together. To the shop for the day and back again," she explained. It was clear and simple. It was more than reasonable in her eyes.

His hands were balled together on his lap, the one twined with hers squeezing painfully tight. She reached forward with her one free hand and placed it gently over them. The tension in them didn't loosen like she'd hoped. This wasn't easy for him. She didn't expect it to be. After what had happened the last time she'd left she knew that losing her again scared him more than anything in the world. And that was the one reason that she couldn't be completely angry at him for making the request that kept her safe. But it was a necessary step they'd have to take if he didn't want her to go insane with boredom. "Two weeks," he finally muttered lightly. She took a deep breath and laid her head against his shoulder. She felt like she could barely contain her jitters being locked up in that house. But one week or two, what did it matter? As long as there was a light at the end of the tunnel, as long as he kept coming back to her each and every night, as long as she had that, she could handle the rest.

"Two weeks and we spend next weekend here," she countered, glancing around the cabin.

Finally a hint of a smile touched his mouth and he glanced down at her again. "That can be arranged," she smiled and burrowed closer against his side. There was hope. She wasn't going back to an endless sentence. She could make something of herself again. She'd had to do it once without him; she could only imagine that it would be easier with him this time around. He kissed the top of her head in a way that made her feel like she was more precious than diamonds or fairy dust, that she did indeed mean more than magic or even power. To him, she was. "You aren't useless," he muttered into her hair. "You make me better. You turn me into a man, and that isn't an easy task. Isn't that enough?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to respond but found that she couldn't. She thought about the words and knew it would be a lie to give him the answer he sought. But she couldn't bear to speak the words filtering through her mind. It was a great accomplishment, that was certain. It was something that she would be proud of for the rest of her life, something that she imagined she would be known for far and wide for one day. But she didn't want it to be her only accomplishment, just her greatest.

So, yes, it was enough.

But only for now.


	58. Best and Second Best

She liked the night time the best.

She living in his home again, just like before the dreadful curse. He had neglected it, from the sight of a small cot in the corner of his shop and of course the spinning wheel, she suspected that the shop he worked at was his real home, this was just a façade. Something he came back to because he could, not because he wanted too. But that had all been before she had come back to him. Ever since she'd arrived she had set about to making the large, though more reasonable, piece of land a home. The only difference was that this time it was not just for her, but for them. She wanted it to be something he was happy to come back to. She had finished just before they'd gone to the cabin and at night it seemed like she had succeeded. When the car pulled up into the driveway he would smile and she could see tension drain out of his face and shoulders as they found their way back to one another again. She was happy to have company, and he seemed happy just to be at home with her.

Her days were dull and boring now that she didn't have to clean. It wasn't much of an existence but she only had two weeks of this life left. That was the arrangement they'd made at the cabin: two more weeks here and if the town still wasn't safe he would take her any way, in the mean time she had a weekend in the cabin to look forward to. And, of course, their nights together. As dull and boring as these lonely days were it all ended the moment she placed her arms around him.

But she couldn't deny that things had changed since they'd made their little agreement, since before that. It started, she supposed, the night he'd told her that he couldn't cross the town line. He had been tortured by something, a stray thought that seemed to wander into his mind even when they were together and distract him. It had been small, hardly noticable, but since they'd gotten back, she'd noticed it creeping into their time together more and more everyday. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy their time every bit that she did. He was happy she was there, she could tell that feeling was genuine, but something else was there now as well, on the edge of his mind, keeping him from being wholly with her even when they were in the same room.

She wished she knew what it was? The issue with the town line? The prospect of taking her to town? Something he hadn't shared with her yet? Something in his past? She could ask. The deal they had made was his honesty to the questions she asked so long as she didn't bombard him with questions. They'd come up with that weeks ago, when she was upset because he hadn't told her why not being able to cross the town line had upset him so much. But she had yet to act on this deal. Partly because she was afraid he would think she was abusing a precious gift he had given her. But also because she had secretly been hoping that if she didn't pry, he might come to realize that she was a safe person to confide in. She had hoped that he would share his secrets all on his own. But she was beginning to think not that he wouldn't, but that he couldn't. It was the only explanation. She believed that he had done it for so long, he didn't know how not to be secretive. It bothered her, more than she wanted to admit.

And yet everything that he didn't say, everything that made her nerves sizzle and her hands ball into fists when she had to be patient, could be countered in one moment when he was true and genuine with her. Like his moment, the one that they didn't need words for, this was the moment she liked best of all. She came out of the bathroom and looked at his form, lying on his side of the bed they now shared happily. He wasn't sleeping, he never slept until she got there, but he was turned on his side, to give her as much privacy as she wanted. She really liked that. He'd seen everything, touched everywhere, and was certain that he had kissed every inch of her skin but he still didn't want to intrude on her privacy and that made her feel like he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. They were perfect for one another.

The windows were open. When she had first set foot in his house, he had told her, in a regrettable tone, that he didn't have something called air conditioning to keep the house cool, she didn't mind. So far it was not that bad, the days were warm and getting cooler as they moved into the fall, but the hot air still liked to gather in the upper floors keeping the downstairs cool. And at night they opened the windows, so that the colder night air could naturally cool the house. Soon they wouldn't have to, and she would regret the day they didn't. True it was getting colder at night, but the world outside his house produced the most beautiful lullaby: crickets, dogs barking, even an owl that liked to hoot cheerfully from time to time. And, even though she'd been free for weeks she never got tired of the night time. Nothing made her so happy as to see the moonlight streaming in, and the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she had those sights, the sounds, even the smell of the pine needles. It had been so long since she'd had him. She could be patient, she could wait for town, could wait for him to tell her the truth about his past and present, just so long as she got to have these moments. Yes, nights were her favorite.

As a smile, she couldn't help, spread across her face, she gently slipped in between the covers. She put her hand on his arm and he rolled over onto his back at the touch. She leaned down and kissed him, muttering a good-night before curling up against his side, she felt the familiar touch of his arm around her back, holding her securely against him, his hand tangling in her hair, and stroking bits and pieces of her that he could reach: head, neck, shoulder, and upper spine. He kissed the top of her head "I love you" he whispered as he always did before they went to sleep. They didn't always go right to sleep, but as neither initiated anything tonight it appeared they would be simply falling asleep. It really didn't make much of a difference to her, she just wanted to be by him, and so long as she fell asleep with her head on his chest and could listen to the sound of his heart beat and feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, so long as she had him, the moment was perfection. This was the moment she liked best.

Until she was startled awake. Until she sat bolt upright in bed and had to catch her breath. It wasn't unheard of. He often woke up in the middle of the night, haunted by some strange nightmare. She would rub his back and kiss his shoulder, coax him back to bed, and back to sleep. So it surprised her when she realized that it wasn't his nightmare that had woken her, but one of her own.

Yes, that was right. She had a nightmare. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary, she'd had them on rare occasion, but the content scared her. Usually she had nightmares of that dreaded prison cell the Queen had shut her up in. But not tonight. She was still trying to piece the fragments together. A necklace, Rumpelstiltskin, and something about an axe. And at the end, clear in comparison to the rest of the terrible event, the Rumpelstiltskin she had known before, strange skin, greasy hair, and reptile eyes. He issued her a warning, something that she had feared from the moment she'd gotten him back that day at the well. "It's me, dearie, always has been always will be!" his high pitched voice had mocked just before she had woken.

It wasn't real, it was only a dream. Wasn't it? But as she struggled to catch her breath she realized something was missing. He was a light sleeper, and whenever she woke up with nightmares he was always there to comfort her just as she did for him. So where was his familiar arm? The voice telling her it would be ok? Where was he? She glanced down to the space that he usually occupied only to find him gone, nothing but a small dent in the pillow where his head had once been. She furrowed her brows and looked around the dark room. The bathroom door was wide open, his blue pajamas had been thrown onto a chair in the corner, and while it wasn't open completely the door to their room had been left slightly ajar, she was positive she'd closed it before coming to bed. She glanced at the bedside clock, it was morning. And he was an early riser, but even this was too early for him to wake up and begin his day. So where was he? And how had he wriggled away without her noticing?

She pushed the covers back. Going downstairs to pace, if something was wrong, wouldn't be out of the ordinary, but she wouldn't be able to sleep without him. And if something was wrong she wanted him to tell her about it. Trying not to focus on the cold air curling around her skin or the chill of the hard wood floors, she moved through the house. Downstairs, his car was still in the driveway, so he was definitely here but she looked around the rooms she couldn't find a trace of him. It wasn't until she went to the back of the house that she discovered that the glass door in the dining room was open. Outside? Why would he have gone outside? Confused, she followed his trail of bread crumbs. Out to the patio. No sign. Down to the back yard. Nothing.

Then she saw it, a light, in the basement. She crouched down and looked in the window. She'd never been down there, the door was always kept locked and she had never seen him come or go from the place. She always assumed he never went down there either, that it just contained more junk. And yet, there Rumple sat, at another spinning wheel, doing what he had always done best, spinning. She was sad, sorry for him even, if he was having trouble sleeping he should have woken her up. She wanted him to be able to trust her, and yet he would rather turn to a cold basement than talk to her about what was bothering him.

Suddenly he reached for scissors and her heart dropped as she saw what he was doing clearly. He wasn't cutting off a loose end of thread. He was cutting off a strand of golden thread! Magic! He was doing magic! She thought he had given it up! But it was then that she saw there wasn't just a spinning wheel down there, he had a little work table set up, like he had in his castle years ago. He dropped the gold thread into what looked like a vial, when the two substances combined they glowed the same color of purple that had come out of that well.

Her jaw dropped. She couldn't watch any more. She had seen enough. She stood up and quickly ran back into the house, closing the door so he wouldn't know she had found him. Why? She hadn't done anything wrong. Did she want him to know? And what was she going to do with this new discovery? Her heart was racing and she felt tears gathering in her eyes. Suddenly it was her that was pacing downstairs, trying to sort out the imagines in her cluttered mind. She was hurt, and upset, and even angry at him. She hadn't been angry at him for a long time. She'd been irritated, and hurt by him, but true anger, that hadn't shown its face in their relationship in a long time.

Why did she have to wake up? Why had he done this? They were content, everything between them had been perfect, but now it just felt like a lie. How often did he leave her side as she slept soundly to practice magic in the basement? How often did he exchange her company for the company of his magic?

She hadn't known he was using magic again. Admittedly she hadn't asked him to stop but she didn't think she had too! He knew what it did to him and what it turned him into and how she felt about it. She paced back and forth in the living room. What was she going to do now? She could go back to bed, but the thought of going to sleeping in that room when he was off practicing magic felt like a betrayal. Besides as she felt tears sting the corners of her eyes she realized that she didn't think that she could sleep now any way. Her heart was breaking. Her mind kept flashing back to that one stupid thing he had said, that one brief sentence that she could have sworn he hadn't meant, that he had only said to protect himself: "my power means more to me than you." She sank down into one of the chairs. And covered her face with her hands.

No, she still didn't believe it, but that didn't mean anything if he didn't believe it. He had to know where his priorities were. She may have been high on his list but until he saw just how high she would continue to be only second best. She wasn't willing to have her best moment of the day be only his second best. Something he could sneak away from to get to his best moment.

She glanced out the glass door, the sun was already beginning to lighten the sky. He'd be coming back in soon enough, to shower, to prepare to open the shop. He was predictable as ever, but what would become of today? What should she do about what she'd seen? About what he'd done?

Suddenly the answer popped into her head as it had always been there, maybe it had. He would know she had found him, she would tell him herself. She hadn't acted on their deal, but she would now. She would ask him the question, and in return he would tell her the truth about what she had seen.

And if he didn't? The little voice in her head seemed to shout. What would she do if he didn't tell her what he was doing? She silenced the voice. She had to believe that he would tell her the truth. After everything that had happened since her return, everything they'd shared together, all the progress he'd made. She had no evidence to believe that he would lie to her. And yet her mind though back on the two times she'd confronted him before. Neither had worked out the way that she had hoped.

But she couldn't ignore this. She wouldn't go back to bed and wait patiently for him and pretend that she hadn't seen anything. She could be patient for other things but not on this. She wanted answers and she was going to get them. Because on this one thing, when she came up against her old enemy, magic, she wouldn't settle for anything less than being his best thing.


	59. The Final Straw

The rising of the sun meant nothing. She felt hallow. Her eyes were sore and she had felt like she had no tears left, not since first light. The sun had risen completely, now, it had risen an hour ago, she'd heard the grandfather clock by the door chime, confirming it. And he still hadn't shown up. So she'd sat. She'd waited. She felt alone.

For as angry as she was she was surprised that she was able to sit so still, to breathe so calmly. She felt like she'd transcended to a higher level of pain and hurt that she'd never been to before. It wasn't boiling within her as it had when she'd first seen him, it was just simmering, just waiting. The only thing that she had managed to do since she saw him spinning his gold in the cellar was make herself some tea, in an attempt to truly calm herself, make herself feel better. It didn't work. At first she had only been determined, but, as the minutes ticked by, the emotions only grew, morphed, into the desperate and muted rage she felt now.

She was tired of knowing nothing about the man she slept beside every night. She was tired of trying so hard to be part of the life of the town and being held back. She was tired of the darkness that seemed to haunt him when he came home, of putting on a smile and pretending that it wasn't affecting their relationship. And most of all she was tired of asking if everything was ok and being told that nothing was wrong, he was fine. Everything was not ok. He was not fine. She knew it, he knew it, and the fact that he was trying to cover it up only made her feel nauseous and insulted. Didn't he know by now that she could read him easier than the words in a book?!

She had been able to push it aside, to pretend like it didn't bother her, but after what she had seen last night, she couldn't ignore it any more. If he was fine, if nothing was wrong, then he wouldn't be leaving her side in the middle of the night to practice magic in the basement! She wanted an explanation from him. She deserved an explanation, to know what was wrong. And she was going to get it. He'd promised her honesty when he answered her questions. Well now he was going to make good on that deal. She would get her answers.

The sound of the door opening didn't startle her. She'd been waiting to hear it for what felt like eternity. It was only a matter of time. She turned and watched him come in. He paused when he saw her, startled that she was out of bed, but he recovered quickly and his face broke into a happy smile. She hoped that hers didn't show any of the disappointment that she was feeling, but she suspected it wasn't possible, sitting there stewing in the early hours of the morning, disappointment had become too much a part of her to hide. "Hey," he said happily and yet awkward. There was a twinge of fear there suddenly that she took note of. He was picking up on her expression, probably just as she always did his. But did he suspect that she knew where he'd been? Or was he worried she would question him about coming in from the garden this early in the morning.

"Hi," she responded shortly, hearing the irritation in her voice. Apparently he heard it too, because he didn't shut the door, merely watched her like she so often found herself doing to him when she was trying to figure out what he was thinking. Did he really not know what was bothering her? Or did he know and just saw nothing wrong with it? He watched her move from the arm chair she had been sitting in over to the counter that divided one room from the other. "What are you doing?" she asked, setting the lukewarm tea on the counter. She had initially wanted to be a little more discreet, approach it delicately from a different angle. But that thought had faded with the coming of the morning light. Still she sounded far more harsh than she thought she felt. Apparently she was angrier than she even knew.

"I was, uh," his shoulders tightened with tension at the strained sound of her voice, but if he only knew how much more hurt she felt, that would be enough to make him truly cower. "Going to make you breakfast," he finished with a forced smile, and coming up with a quick excuse that he probably thought would work to distract her.

It wasn't, not this time. Determination in her heart, she corrected him. "No, in, in the basement," she insisted, trying not to leave room for excuses as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice as if it was just an ordinary morning...but it wasn't. Whether or not he realized it, last night changed everything. "I saw you practicing magic," she accused, when he didn't respond.

The door slammed shut with a bit more force than he usually gave it and he made his way over to her a little slower than he normally did. He knew that he was in trouble, but he still didn't answer her question. "How about some breakfast?"

"No, we need to talk about this!" she hadn't yelled, she'd managed to stop herself before she did. But her insistence left little room for anything else. She was going to get her answers, she was going to get the honest truth out of him. He had promised.

"It was just a couple of spells," he argued setting to bottle down. It wasn't an explanation. It was an excuse. Couldn't he tell the difference? "Nothing to be concerned about."

She nodded, unsatisfied. If it was "nothing to be concerned about" then surely he wouldn't mind proving that to her. "Ok, then be honest with me," she requested, hoping the words would remind him of their deal. The fearful look on his face confirmed it. "Why did you bring magic here?" her heart leapt into her throat. It wasn't the question she'd planned on asking, but now that it hung here between them she realized it was the one she needed to understand most of all. She had a hunch that if she knew that, then a lot more of their life, of him, would make sense.

It was the moment of truth. She desperately wanted the answer and not just for the sake of getting the answer she wanted to know that there was a reason for his actions. She wanted to know that he could be truthful with her. She wanted to know if she could serve a purpose in his life other than just a warm body to come home to every night.

"I've told you," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he was relieved that she hadn't asked something more difficult "magic is power."

"Why do you need it!" she pressured, trying to make herself as clear as possible. Was that the problem? Was she just not clear enough? Apparently, because he was staring at her as if she was speaking the language of centaurs. He was guarded, so guarded that the words weren't even on the tip of his tongue. They were locked away somewhere so deep in his mind that he wasn't even thinking of the answer. The only thing on his face was disappointment. In who? Her? Himself? She'd long thought that he wasn't capable of telling her the truth. That he had been forced to hide it away for so long that he no longer knew how to share his secrets. Taking baby steps like that were fine when they were at the castle and she was nothing more than a servant that had no business prying into his mind. Things were different now. She was not a servant who had no right to know about his life and he was not the master who got to tell her what was best for her. They had to be equals in this relationship, they couldn't be anything less. But that would never happen unless he opened up and let her into his own private world, into his thoughts, into his past.

"Tell me," she prodded, begged really. But the only thing she got was that same blank stare. He was searching for something to say, some way to explain that would spare her feelings and let him go on keeping his secrets. He was afraid. How was it possible that they could share the relationship, the feelings, the connection that they had, how could they share a house, a kitchen, a bed, and he still couldn't answer her questions honestly as she had requested? How could he break their deal...again?

She heaved a disappointed sigh. It was too late. He couldn't spare her, she already felt like he'd pulled the knife in her heart out and she was bleeding out before him. And he wasn't doing anything to save her. "You don't need power Rumple," she pointed out "you need courage, to let me in." With that she grabbed the cooling tea and left him standing there, because it just hurt too much to look at him. She went up to their room. His room. Such a simple act, seemed to suddenly have undone weeks of progress and growth. Suddenly, she couldn't help but feel like she didn't belong here anymore. She'd done her best to make it belong to the both of them, but what difference would it make, if she had a drawer or the room or the entire house. She once thought it had been a miracle that he'd been able to share the room, the bed with her, but she would have traded all that in an instant just to know one of his secrets. To be the one that he shared his life with and not just his space.

A bird chirped through the open window, and suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to do. He had broken a deal with her and left her to handle it. The way she saw it that entitled her to break another of their deals and to leave him to deal with it. She didn't know what to expect but she knew that she just couldn't stay here, in the house has she had obediently done since the curse broke. It was too painful. She didn't want to be separated from him, but she could see no other way to make him see just how important she was to him. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, wasn't it? It certainly seemed to have last time!

She could do this, she'd done it once before. This wasn't as bad as it had been then. Last time she had expected never to see him again. This time she hoped, she knew, he would come after her. He wouldn't leave her out there alone, not after what had happened before. She just hoped that he would see that getting her back was more important than keeping his secrets, because secrets, trust, was exactly what it was going to take to make things right again.

She waited until she heard the slamming of the back door, when she knew he'd gone back to his safe place, that basement. Could a woman be jealous of a room? She didn't cry and she was proud of herself for that. She dressed quickly, not knowing how much time she had, then grabbed a jacket and left the house, closing the door behind her quietly so he wouldn't hear, so that she wouldn't be thwarted before she could truly try. It felt like ages ago, but she did her best to remember how he had gotten her here, and took the brave first steps alone toward town.


	60. New Friends and Possibilities

After all her dreaming, after wanting nothing more than to be in town, she realized, she had nowhere to go. She had managed to find the town square after a long walk but now that she was here she found that she didn't know what to do with herself. She was determined not to go to his store, her father hadn't come forward yet to claim her, even if she saw Gaston she would run away, and she couldn't think of a single person that she should look for. To make matters worse walking around the town square was only making her more and more angry. The way Rumple had described it she half expected to find riots happening in the street, buildings toppled over, and fires starting at random. She didn't know what the town was like normally, but this did not look like the scene of chaos that he had been describing to her.

He'd promised, he'd promised that he wouldn't lie to her any more. That was the deal they'd made: she wouldn't force him to answer question after question after question about his past and he agreed that when she did ask him a question he would answer it honestly. "Honesty or nothing at all," he'd muttered, after they'd made up that night. But it appeared he hadn't paid attention to that particular deal, as he'd broken it only hours ago.

Or had he! Her mind thought back to that night, suddenly flooding with every little detail she could think of, and she remembered one terrible thing that had never caught her attention before. He'd never actually made the deal official. She'd tried to but instead of the words he'd kissed her. She'd thought that it meant the deal was sealed, she'd never considered that he might have only been distracting her so that he didn't have to make the deal and trick her into thinking that he had. Her jaw dropped as the realization hit her. As well as he knew her, he might have known that night that she wouldn't ask questions or pry, that she would wait for him. He'd manipulated her like he would have any of his other deals. He'd kept her happy...and ignorant, he'd thought it all would work out for him in the end.

She tried not to burst into tears at his scheme. It hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped it would. As it turned out, he'd only bought himself more time, but not her compliance and not true happiness. She shook her head. Time had run out. Now she would get her answers and all the explanations she wanted. He'd come after her this time, they'd fight, she'd probably scream, he'd yell, they'd get it out of their system, and they'd figure out what to do next. Whatever that may be. She hadn't expected that he'd broken their deal this much, that he'd been lying to her all along. That he had manipulated her and toyed with her emotions and words yet again. She grit her teeth and her anger boiled her blood. No, this was much worse than she'd expected. And somehow she didn't think, as she had when she'd left his house, that it would really be as simple as going back with him. What exactly that meant she didn't know, part of her was too afraid to even speak the possible outcome. She'd survived leaving him once, but she didn't know if she was strong enough to go through it again.

Suddenly her stomach gave a loud grumble, distracting her black thoughts, and reminding her that she'd left before she had time to eat. She couldn't think about what would happen at the end of the day, she had to think about now. And right now she needed to eat something, or at least get something to fix her dry throat. Looking around her she spotted a sign, it was for a diner, a place called Granny's. Yes, she'd heard of this place before, he'd mentioned it a couple of times. Would he think to look there for her? Did she want to be found, yet? Twice now she'd gone back to him, hoping that her absence would make him see what he had. It seemed to have worked but not nearly as much as she had hoped it would.

A wind picked up around her, silently bringing her back into her current situation, and she looked up into the warm diner. Fall seemed to have arrived over night, and she figured she could at least get out of the chilly weather while she waited, while she figured out what to do next.

She walked into the room, and was greeted by a tall woman wearing a red shirt, she absent-mindedly waved a hand at the near empty diner and told her to sit anywhere. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked. The question caught her off guard and she automatically responded "Tea" as she took a seat at a strange table sticking out of the side of the wall. The woman brought a tall glass over to her and asked if she wanted anything else. "We make great Hamburgers!" she'd said in a tempting voice. She declined, she had no money for food, the tea would have to do for now. The woman shrugged and walked away.

Something was wrong. The drink she'd brought her wasn't right. It was the brown color of tea but it was in ice. And a strange tube thing was sticking out of the glass. She glanced around her in confusion and saw the only other couple in the diner. The man had a glass like hers and appeared to be sucking on the tube. She looked at the liquid in front of her and shrugged, she would try anything once, and she was here. She may as well try something new. Timidly she picked up the cold beverage put the tube to her lips and pulled. It was tea, but it was chilled, and it tasted wonderful. Just as good as hot tea was, maybe even better. She smiled to herself, impressed that she was doing this well on her first time out.

Through the first one, she sat there patiently wondering in everything she could see outside of the window. But by the second one her mind had traveled back to him, and she started to panic. The situation was already worse than when she had left the house that morning. What if he didn't come? What if he chose his power over her again? Or worse, what if he came to find her, but still refused to give her answers? What would she do then? Was she just supposed to go back with him to give in? Her patience with him was wearing thin. And experience had taught her that despite her best efforts he might actually be incapable of being honest with her. If she couldn't have that, if he couldn't trust her with his secrets then what did that say about the two of them together. What hope did it hold for their future? What could she hope for her own if she didn't have him?

The tall woman came over to her again and set another cold tea down in front of her. It seemed to break the spell, reminding her not to panic until she had to. She could take things one step at a time, there was no use worrying when she didn't know if there really was anything to worry about, for all she knew he would find her, apologize, and divulge all his secrets to her like she always dreamt of. For all she knew this would be the one time that convinced him she was his most prized possession. But she doubted it. "Thank you," she smiled politely at the woman.

"Are you ok?" the woman asked suddenly, in a sympathetic but curious tone. Her smile disappeared. She had been hoping she didn't look distressed. She always thought that she was good at hiding her thoughts and expressions, of course she was second best compared to her lover, she thought with the smallest hint of spit. But she didn't think there was anything that would give her inner turmoil away. "That's your third iced tea this morning," she pointed out with a smile leaning against the other seat "wouldn't want to have to call you a cab," the woman laughed but she didn't understand the joke. For a moment she had the thought that she would have to ask Rumpelstiltskin about it but that only made her feel sad and panicked again. Not only did she not know if she would have the chance, but she was already referring to him as Rumpelstiltskin again, a sure sign of her anger and the very large step back they'd taken this morning.

She reminded herself to focus on the now. "No, I've never had it iced before," she admitted taking in the name of the drink "iced tea". She was learning already, "it's, it's delicious!"

The woman kept smiling at her in a friendly way, "I haven't seen you in here before," the woman stated, hiding a question behind the words.

Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable, this was the last thing that she wanted to talk about with a total stranger. The last time she'd talked with a strange woman it hadn't worked out in their favor. But, she had a bad feeling about The Evil Queen from the beginning; she didn't get that feeling about this woman. Her smile was friendly, welcoming, and it made her trust her. So with a deep breath she shoved some hair away from her face, choosing her words carefully. "Well, I," she stumbled trying to think of the words that wouldn't give away too much but also wouldn't insult her. She wasn't exactly pleased with the reason behind why she hadn't seen her either. "I've been a kept woman," she admitted, hating the words more than she thought she would "until recently". She'd been kept alright, kept ignorant of this world around her. All because he was overly protective. The Queen was still lurking about but somehow she doubted that she would come after her again, not unless she wanted to die at his hands.

The woman sat down opposite her. "Let me guess, bad break up?" she asked genuinely interested. She could feel the shock growing on her face. They were the wrong words, she was hoping it wouldn't go in that direction, hoping she wouldn't have to face it. But as she talked to this kind woman, walking around the safe town, she had to admit that it was a possibility. She didn't want that. She didn't want them to be separated like they had been before. But if he didn't muster up the strength to give her answers, what would happen then? And even if he did tell her, what about the next time she wanted answers, were they doomed to go through this every time?! Was a permanent break up the inevitable outcome of their relationship?

"I think I may be heading there," she admitted, her stomach dropping like lead into the pit of her stomach. It was the last thing she wanted, but she couldn't think of any way to get the message across to him. What was she supposed to do?

The woman leaned forward, her voice lowering as she looked at her with sympathy. "Do you have a place to stay?" she asked, real worry lacing her face "any family here?" The woman's kindness caught her off guard, but once again the words were wrong. They only reminded her of everything she didn't have.

"Ah, I'm, I'm not sure. I'm still looking." She hoped she had family, she assumed that nothing bad would have happened to her father, but what if he wasn't around anymore? What if that was why he hadn't contacted her? No. She couldn't let herself think that way! The now, focus on the now, she couldn't assume anything was wrong if she didn't truly know! "I'm on my own for now," she settled. She didn't know what she would do, but she got on ok once on her own she could do it again.

"I can ask Granny about a room here," she offered.

For a moment she thought to refuse, but then her sense kicked in. "Really?" With her future up in the air like it was now, she couldn't afford to refuse. And besides, the woman was being so kind. She wished she'd been able to meet this woman in their world. She'd never had a friend before, never really needed one, but if there ever was a time to have one, this was it. The woman nodded and she realized that she was smiling. It wouldn't be much but it would be somewhere to start "Thanks," she looked at the woman, wanting to thank her properly but then realized she didn't' even know her name. She had offered her a lifeline and they hadn't even really met.

"Ruby," she woman said, as if reading her mind.

"Belle," she offered happily. If there ever was a time for a friend this was it, she liked talking to this woman, she had a good feeling about it, unlike last time, she could tell this woman, this Ruby, was a good person. "What I really need though is a life," she admitted, unable to stop herself, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a real lucid conversation with someone besides Rumple, "a job," she clarified. Place to sleep first, a way to support herself second, the life would come eventually.

Ruby took a deep sigh "Well, uh, what do you like to do?" she asked interested.

What did she like to do? She didn't even know. She liked being with him, but that wouldn't help. She could cook and clean, and although it kept her busy she didn't particularly take joy in the busy work. What made it worth it was the look on his face when he realized what she had done, that feeling of accomplishment she got from it. There was nothing that she liked about being a Princess, and the "job" didn't seem to be something she could do here. What did she like to do? Suddenly an image formed in her mind. There was one thing she liked to do. "I do like books," she admitted.

"The library," Ruby exclaimed "it's been closed forever, but, uh, things are changing now," she said with hushed excitement. "Maybe they need a librarian." She bit her lip and thought for a moment. An entire library to herself? A place where everyone would gather and could share their love for books, a place where she could put all of her learned skills to work? That had possibilities.


	61. From Good to Bad

She had wanted to see the library. Ruby told her that it was useless that everything was covered but she didn't care. A library was something familiar, something comforting, if all she could see was the building, that would be enough. And so Ruby directed her, telling her where to go to find it, then made her promise to come back and let her know what she thought. She agreed but before she left she had one after thought. The library had been a great distraction, but it hadn't solved anything. It was an option to be explored and nothing more. He was out there, and he might be looking for her this very moment. At first all she had wanted was for him to come and find her. But with all the lies he'd told, she was still furious and she was much more inclined to see a library than him. She wanted something in her life that didn't revolve are him, something else she could depend on for happiness. She wasn't ready to face him yet.

"Ruby, I hate to ask," she said leaning against the dividing counter separating them "but could you do me one more favor?"

Ruby smiled confidently, "name it."

"If Rumple…" she paused. Not here, that was only who she knew him to be, not who everyone knew him as. "Mr. Gold," she corrected "comes by, could you not tell him I was here? I know I'll have to talk to him eventually but I'm not sure I'm ready just yet."

She watched as Ruby's face fell in shock. "Mr. Gold?" she questioned with wide disbelieving eyes. "He's the one? You're breaking up with Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked with her eye brows raised in surprise. She had expected this, everyone to be afraid of him, and her by association. No one ever wanted to cross him in the other world, so why would they here? Ruby certainly wouldn't help her now, and she felt bad for even asking, for placing her in harm's way.

"You know, never, never mind," Belle insisted weakly. It was stupid to ask, to think that loving Rumple could ever make her normal. "It's alright."

"No, I just" Ruby took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and shook her head. After a moment, that she could only assume was used to collect herself and her thoughts, her face changed again. The look of shock was replaced by the already familiar friendly smile. "Consider it done," Ruby assured her.

Belle raised her eye brows, now it was her turn to be shocked, "Really?" She was willing to help her? To lie to Rumpelstiltskin? Not many people were brave enough for that.

"Yeah, just promise you'll come back, let me know if you need that room."

She beamed at the woman, "Thanks Ruby, I…" she what? Was thankful? Was ecstatic? Felt lucky to have met her? "I…"

"Belle," Ruby reached out and touched her arm in a friendly gesture, "it's no problem. Now go! Tell me about it later!" she ordered with a smile that mimicked her own excitement. She smiled back and nodded then fled the diner, stopping outside to look at the world around her. It didn't seem as bad as it had before. It helped to have a friend.

She followed Ruby's instructions perfectly, double checking every corner and alley she passed by to be sure that she wouldn't accidentally stumble upon him in his search, and it wasn't long before the tall clock tower she'd seen before loomed over her. The sign "Storybrooke Public Library" met her eyes. She walked confidently up to the white doors and eagerly pulled. They were locked, tightly. That was no matter; she really just wanted a peek, but how. Ruby had been right. A strange whitish paper with black writing covered all the windows in front. She walked around the side, but large wooden boards met her eyes, covering the larger windows. In her head she could imagine them casting depressing shadows over the place that was supposed to be happy and filled with good sunlight for proper reading.

Suddenly her heart leapt. There, ahead of her! It appeared that one of the boards had fallen off, maybe in the commotion after the curse had broken. It had been replaced haphazardly with different sized boards. The window on the inside was also covered with the strange paper, but on one side, like it had been waiting for her, was a hole, just big enough for her to peek inside. She pressed her face close to the glass, finally able to glance within. She couldn't see much, but the small sight that met her eyes was enough to cause a small flutter of excitement in her stomach. Books. Racks and racks of books. At last something she knew about. It was perfect.

"Excuse me miss?"

She jumped and spun at the voice, ready to run, fearing the Queen had caught up with her. But she was wrong. It wasn't the Queen, it was just a man with a high pitched timid voice. He looked harmless really. "You startled me," she admitted trying to laugh it off like it was nothing. She had to get used to this, not every person in this town was out to get her. Just one, and she was certain that no matter what the state of her relationship with Rumple was, she wouldn't come after her any time soon.

"I, I was just wondering if you had any spare change?" the man asked. She looked him over, was he homeless? Was she staring at what her future would have been if Ruby hadn't offered her that room? She supposed it was plausible. The man looked well fed but his clothes weren't exactly clean, a filthy black dust was showing up on his strange looking shirt. And the hat he wore looked like something a grandmother would knit, and it semed old and raggedy enough for that as well. She wished she could help him, it was the right thing to do, but unfortunately she wasn't much better than he was at the moment.

"Oh, no sorry, I, I don't have any money," she responded.

The man looked nervously over his shoulder, "what, what about a friend," he stuttered "are you meeting anyone here?"

She looked him over again, taken back by his words. They seemed suspicious. Why would he need to know that? Was he homeless for a reason? There were plenty of homeless people in their world because they were insane and had been turned out by their families, maybe he was one of them? But then again maybe not? Why would he care? "Uh, no, why?" she asked, preparing to run, to scream, anything. If this man worked for the Queen she had to get away as quickly as possible. But if there really was something wrong with his mind then she didn't want to frighten the already nervous looking man. She'd been there; she knew what it was like.

"I just wanted to make sure!" the man suddenly reached out and grabbed her, before she could do anything a hand was over her mouth. It was her worst nightmare come to life. She was pulled back against him and being dragged off. She did her best to make sounds, to be loud, but no one was in sight. No one could hear her. And she was trying unsuccessfully to fight him off.

Her heart was pounding. What was she supposed to do? Who was he? And who was he working for? Could the Queen have really been waiting all this time, just for her to step outside to kidnap her again? What was going to happen now! She fought, she struggled, she tried to gain enough footing that she could pull away from the man, but she couldn't get her feet under her long enough. He kept dragging her backward. She couldn't even see where she was going and she barely knew where she was in the first place. Suddenly she found herself being loaded like cargo into what seemed like a car but was different than the one that belonged to Rumple, the one she had been in. He finally released her. "What are you doing?!" she screamed "Let me go!" she insisted as he pushed her across the driver's side to the spot reserved for her. So there were different kinds of cars, did they all work the same? She pulled on the handle like she had in Rumpelstiltskin's car but it didn't give way for her like his did. What good was it if it didn't work?

"Sorry, that door's always been broken," he apologized sincerely. She glanced over at her captor, her mouth dropping in confusion at his genuine politeness. He made a poor henchman. He was pathetic, really. He pulled on the seat belt and clicked it in place around her.

"What is going on here? Please, tell me!" she half begged, half yelled.

"Don't worry," he said "you're not in any danger. It'll all be clear soon."

"Why not make it clear now?" she asked with firm politeness, surprised she had that much patience with the man. But she was certain that he was not the dangerous one, not the one that she had to worry about. She didn't know this man, had no quarrel with him, certainly someone else had sent him for her and that was who she was afraid of.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again "I promised I wouldn't be the one to tell you. You'll find out soon enough." He started the car and took another nervous glance over at her, paying close attention to her hands. "Please don't make me tie you up," he requested. He really was a bad henchman. What kind of man kidnapped a woman and then politely requested that she not harm him?! Well, he was in luck, because she had no intention of attacking him, not now at least. But later he would discover that allowing her hands to be free was a tragic mistake on his part. She would sit patiently and wait, then, maybe, once the car stopped she would be able to get away. Then again maybe she wouldn't have to. The fleeting hope that Rumple wouldn't find her so quick was replaced with a hope that maybe by then he would have found her! He'd know what to do.

The man pulled away, taking her away from the good life she had only begun to imagine herself having. She knew it couldn't last, knew it wouldn't. But she wasn't stupid. This man wasn't as strong as he appeared. Once this car stopped she would get away, she would run, and she would figure a way out of this! She had to! She had gotten herself into this mess, Rumpelstiltskin or not she would get herself out of it.


	62. From Bad to Worse

The room smelled faintly of flowers. And looked more like a shack than anything else. She didn't want to fight the mysterious man, not now at least. He had left her hands untied and when he opened the door she'd made a move to bolt but he had his arms around her too quickly and she didn't even get the chance. So she'd remained compliant, allowing him to drag her into this little room with its strange smells, looking for the one moment she could try again. After all, she couldn't be sure if he would tie her up or not, but she did know that if she was going to get one shot at fighting back she needed to save her strength and keep her hands free. It would be best to play it safe.

She took stock of the shack. There was a window and a door behind her. That was her way out. All she needed was for the man to look away and she could run, or scream, and fight back, she didn't have to get anywhere specific just anywhere with people, the town square, the shop, the diner, anywhere. All she had to do was get to a place where someone would hear her scream and hope they would help her.

"Who are you?!" She screamed as the man forcibly sat her down into a chair. But then again, she was a pretty good judge of character, and so far the man had been doing his best to be gentle even against her struggles. As he sat her down she took the opportunity to keep asking the questions hoping he might actually answer them and then if she did run into anyone something could be done. "What, what do you want from me?!" she hoped it wasn't something to do with Rumpelstiltskin. It wouldn't be the first time someone had captured her or tried to use any information that she had against the Dark One. She wouldn't talk, she wouldn't tell him anything. They might not have been in a good place right now but she would never tell them anything that he had told her in confidence. Not that she had anything to say. He never told her anything important. She was just as clueless as all of his enemies. That was what had driven her into the situation in the first place. And it seemed that this morning, this plan she'd had to get the information from him, had gone much worse than she had ever thought it would.

"I'm just a man who procures hard to find objects, in this case" the man paused and looked at her with wide eyes, "the object was you." Curiosity turned quickly to fear. She had been right, he wasn't the one she needed to be afraid of, he was only the henchmen. So who was he working for? She could only think of a few people who would want to find her and none of them were good.

"Who, who put you up to this?" she asked the man, hoping that he had a name to give her. She knew that the Queen had power here and she was more than capable of this. She had thought that if the Evil Queen was going to come after her she would have done it herself like last time. And, frankly, she always figured it would be a lot more public. What good was taking her captive, again, if Rumple had no idea she'd taken her? Word traveled fast and she figured the Evil Queen would be ready and willing to play that card. There was strength in numbers but she'd always felt that for her it was better to stick to the shadows, just as Rumple had told her weeks ago.

The man smirked, but she couldn't understand the joke that only he seemed to get. Suddenly the door behind him opened, and the man stepped back to accommodate the stranger's entrance. No, not a stranger. "Belle," she stared breathless at the man before her. She felt her jaw drop and tears of shock and joy immediately sprang to her eyes and she pushed herself up out of her seat and wrapped her arms tightly around the man before her. "Oh I've missed you Belle."

"Father!" she breathed. She couldn't contain her happiness as tears spilled out of her eyes and her father held her in the tightest fatherly hug he had to offer. The events of this morning were placed aside; nothing would get in the way of this happiness. The last moment that she had seen him was just after Rumple had come into her life, after she had volunteered to go. She had often thought in that castle that she would never see him again, and she had made her peace with that. After she had left, she had nowhere to go. She felt as though she couldn't go back to him, because she had no news of joy to give him, not when her heart was breaking. And besides, to go back to him then would have meant going back to Gaston, she hadn't been ready to take up the life that he had planned for her then. But once she had been freed and had found her place next to Rumple she had felt that it was time to finally find him again. To let him know what had become of her life.

But she didn't understand why he had done it this way, she would have been easy to find. "I'm so sorry this is how we had to be reunited," he muttered as if he had read her mind. She pulled away, placing her hands in his, and looked at the man that had helped to raise her. Through her tears she could tell that he was different, a far cry from the King of a small but proud Empire. His luxurious clothes were gone, his crown replaced with a funny looking hat, but he smelled sweeter than she ever remembered. It permeated the air around her. His hand's were rough and calloused, like the man that had never lifted a hand in his life and been doing nothing but work since they'd been separated. But a small look around the room reminded her of where they were and how she'd gotten here. If he had seen the posters, then why did they have to be reunited this way? He must have seen the posters. Rumple had said that he would post them for her. But every day when she had asked if he'd seen him he had simply said that there was no news and things around town were still chaotic. "Please understand," he begged "I had no choice."

"Then to kidnap me?" Of course there was a choice. He could have gone to Rumpelstiltskin like the poster had said. He could have come over and talked to her, instead of having a stranger pluck her out of the middle of town.

"After the curse broke," he explained, rubbing his thumbs gently over the back of her hands. "I searched all over for you and discovered that the Dark One still had you captive."

She smiled and shook her head at his assumption. "He wasn't holding me captive," she corrected with a smile. It all made sense now. Of course he would come to that conclusion; of course he would think that kidnapping her was the only way to get her back. He had no idea what had happened between the two of them, what had changed since she'd been taken away. There was nothing wrong it was just a simple misunderstanding.

But the question was would he ever be able to accept the truth, that she didn't care about Gaston, and that at the time finding Rumpelstiltskin and being with him had meant more to her than finding anyone else from her life. He had to know, and, frankly, he deserved to know. No matter what would happen after Rumple found her, he was a part of her life that she couldn't erase, and never would want to. As dishonest and secretive as he was, he did make her better and she was convinced that somehow she could make him better as well. And right now, that was the only thing keeping her from telling her father that she was never going to see him again. She wasn't sure if she could bear that. But he did deserve to know why she had been with him all this time. "I chose to be with him," she informed him in the gentlest way she could, hoping to ease him into the news.

He stared at her, expressionless as ever, the only hint that he was shocked was a slight movement in his eyebrows. "Are you saying you fell in love with him?" he asked her in a hushed voice, the tone he had reserved for those times when she was certain she understood how things in the world worked and it was his responsibility to teach her reality. She couldn't blame him. How else was he supposed to react, when his only memory of the Dark One was trading his only daughter for his Kingdom?

She nodded, but couldn't find the words to say it out loud. How was she supposed to feel about Rumpelstiltskin now? What was he supposed to tell her father about it? She still loved him, and she knew that he did love her. But she couldn't stand that he wouldn't tell her anything, that he wouldn't even give her the information that his worst enemies had. Until he learned to open up to her she couldn't go back to him, but that didn't mean that she could just stop loving him. It didn't work that way, she knew from experience. Unfortunately what exactly they were right now was very unclear and to say the words hurt her just as much as it did to leave that morning. "But I fear it may be over now," she breathed holding back tears. The very words tasted bad coming out of her mouth. But they weren't final and they were truthful. She didn't know if it was over or not, but she did fear that it might be…and hoped it wouldn't be, that he'd figure out a way to salvage the beautiful thing they had when they were together.

"It must be" her father insisted with desperation in his voice. The words were almost a slap in the face. She needed comfort in this moment, gentle advisement, not chastisement. He placed his hands on her arms "Promise me that you no longer love him, you will never see him again."

Her body reacted of its own accord, fighting her way out of his grasp and away from his reach in more ways than one. "I'm not, I'm not a child!" She screamed going to the other end of the room. She couldn't be near him right now, not after what he'd just said! She didn't need this. Not now, not today of all days. She was not a little girl anymore and he had no right to tell her who to love and who not to. She had followed that path once before and it had led her straight into the arms of Rumpelstiltskin! Her father couldn't let her live her own life and Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't let her into his. They had called her crazy while she was locked up but now it seemed like she was the only one that was sane! Had no one in this little town changed at all during the curse?!

"You don't understand what that man will do to you," he said reasoning with her. "What he's already done!"

"No, no, you don't understand!" she fought back, raising her voice to him for the first time in her memory. He didn't understand who the man she loved really was. Like everyone else, he was incapable of seeing what she saw in him. He didn't know what it felt like when he touched her, or how she felt complete every time that he was in the same room as her. "It's my life!" she insisted, and if she wanted to spend that life with Rumpelstiltskin then that was how she would spend it. Or if she had to live it without, then, she'd have to do that too, she thought feeling tears prickle the corners of her eyes. She realized, whether or not he saw it, that her father was doing it again, pushing her back to Rumpelstiltskin when she wasn't even sure if she wanted to be there. She felt like a dog, two people both calling her name and taking bets on who she would go to first. She didn't want either, not this way, and she had to get out before she would give in…to either of them.

Her father stared at her. "Then I don't have a choice," he said gravely. She had a bad feeling about those words. What choice? "I'm sorry," what was going on? What was he going to do? She watched as he turned to the man in the red hat, who had watched the entire scene from his place in the corner. "Do it," he told him sharply, the smallest hint of sadness in his voice. Do what? She watched the man come toward her again

"Wait, Father!" she screamed as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist and hulled her out away before she could reach her father. "What are you doing! Stop!" she screamed at the man. She waited for her father to intervene, to order the man to take his hands off her, but he didn't move from his place.

"Good-Bye, Belle!" he called instead "I love you!"

"Father!" she yelled as she was dragged out the door by the man. She had no answers, she didn't know where he was taking her or what her father had in place to make her bend to his whim, but she knew for certain that her day wasn't going to get any easier, it was about to get much worse.


	63. Alone in the World

The man drove her to a place with a crater in the ground, like a lake had once been here but dried up long ago. No, it wasn't a crater or a lake. It had black dust and what looked like ash covering the ground and there was an entrance to something built into the side. She had a feeling that whatever was in that cave wouldn't kill her, this was something her father had sent her to after all and she didn't think that he would do anything to harm her, but she also had no idea just what he had planned to do. Whatever it was it couldn't be good. And just because she didn't think her father would hurt her didn't mean that she was willing to go along with it.

She took her attention away from the cavern and looked at the world that surrounded her trying to find any hope for escape. It appeared that there was forest all around them. If she could just get away, if she could just run into the forest, what was the chance that the unnamed man would be able to find her?

The man got out of the car and reached across to grab her. It was now or never. The second that her feet touched the ground, she pushed the door at him and made him fall back onto the earth. She took her chance, moved out of the car and sprinted for the woods. But the earth wasn't as stable as it looked and the shoes she had on weren't exactly helping her. She hadn't gotten far before she felt a step give way beneath her and she lost her footing, crashing to the ground. She didn't feel hurt, but the ground wasn't as soft as the ash and she fell forward onto her hands and knees with her wrists bearing the brunt of her weight. They stung but were not injured. After the shock wore off she did her best to stand and move, but she'd barely pushed herself up when she felt the man's arms around her waist again. "No!" she screamed both begging and disappointed that she hadn't escaped.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again "Please don't fight, I promise you'll be fine." She didn't listen, if her father was forcing her to do something then she wouldn't be 'fine' and she wasn't going to give in and not do anything. She kicked, drug her feet clawed the man's hands and arms, anything she could think of, but he was stronger than he looked, or she wasn't as strong as she thought and he resisted all of her attempts to break free. He dragged her into the entrance she had seen earlier. It looked to be a mine of some sort, although what they mined in this world she couldn't be sure. There were signs that maybe there were people around, axes littered the ground around her, towels with blackish stains on them, even some water and food. Someone had been here recently, a bunch of people by the looks of it. Were they still here now?

"HELP!" she screamed "Someone help me!"

"There's no one here Princess," he said still roughly dragging her through the tunnel. "But trust me you are in no danger,"

"Then why not let me go?" she asked, trying to sound angry and fierce instead of desperate.

"Please, I don't get my payment until after the transaction is complete," he answered sounding alarmingly like Rumpelstiltskin.

"Where are you taking me?!" she shouted at him, still struggling against his body. The man held his ground, and suddenly he felt his arm behind her knees lifting her off the ground. In the blink of an eye she was sitting in something. She looked feverishly around her, it was a metal cart. A mine cart, like the kind she'd heard they used to mine fairy dust. She could see that it was sitting on tracks that turned the corner to an unknown destination. This made no sense, why would her father want her here? What was he planning on doing to her?! She made an effort to jump out and make another run for it when he captured her arm and clamped a silver bracelet of some kind around it. "Please! Please stop!" Only this was no ordinary bracelet, it appeared attached to the cart, she gave her hand a few shakes and it didn't come lose like an ordinary bracelet. What was this? "What are you doing?!" she asked the man.

"Sending you on a little ride over the town line," she felt her heart plummet. The town line?! She may have been kept ignorant and in the dark over what was going on in the town since she'd gone to live with Rumple but she was certain that he had been telling her the truth about the town line. His rage that night had been too pure to be anything but the truth. And if he was sending her over the town line…that meant. "Once you cross you'll forget who you were in the other realm and who you loved," her mouth dropped as he explained this as simply as Rumple had explained using the garbage disposal. But the meaning behind them went so much deeper.

So that was how her father was going to win her back, he wouldn't keep her locked away he was just going to erase her and replace her with who she had been here. But he didn't understand, he hadn't wanted to listen. Who she was before was no one! She wouldn't go back to that! She couldn't! But the fear was paralyzing, and she couldn't move, couldn't fight back, the words weren't even forming on her mouth. How was losing his only daughter just to get the man she loved out of her head worth it?! And hadn't he been listening when she said that it might actually be over?! No! He'd heard her, but he wasn't willing to take her if there was a chance that she might go back to him. This was far worse than she expected. She didn't even want to think of what would happen when Rumple found out what he had done. For certain he would kill her father. She would be left with no memories, no way to function, no family, this was the exact opposite of the way to solve this situation.

The man reached out and pulled out a strange looking handheld light. "This should help you find the key," he explained kindly placing it in her prison "I left it at the bottom of the cart." He was really going to do this! For what? Money? "Good luck!" he said almost cheerfully, like she would even remember this conversation after it was over and pulled a handle next to him. The cart gave a lurch forward and she turned back to see the man running away.

"No!" she yelled at him "I'm begging you. Please don't, don't do this!" she screamed desperation in her voice. This couldn't be happening! But as she rounded the corner and screamed "please!" one last time she realized that she really was alone. Another yank on the bracelet told her that it wasn't going to give way and let her jump out. She had no idea how much space separated her from the town line, she had to hurry. The key! She had to find the key! He'd said it was at the bottom of the cart. She used the light to search, how hard could it be to find a key?! But it appeared it was harder than she thought. They weren't as big here as they were in the other realm, and the bumping and bouncing that the unstable cart only made it more difficult. And the shifting dirt and debris at the bottom hid it well.

There! Something glinting by her foot, she reached down and pulled the small key into her palm. It was amazing how tense a person could be when they were trying to remind themselves to stay calm. Her heart pounded. Was that the shaky cart or were her hands trembling on their own? She found the small key hole on the bracelet and reached over trying to awkwardly free her wrist. There, she just about had it, all she needed to do was figure out the way to turn and…

She hit a bump and let out a scream of fear and frustration. She had dropped the key, and the cart showed no signs of slowing. She looked ahead of her silently begging the gods to send her something, anything that would free her from this prison. Suddenly the cart squealed, and she was thrown forward as the cart reversed and she let out another terrible scream. What now! "What's happening?!" She screamed at the world around her like it might actually answer. How could this get much worse?! She watched behind her, as the cart retraced its steps. She was still confused but somewhere her sensible mind reminded her that at least she was getting further and further away from the town line. Nothing could be worse than losing her memories. That was at least something to be grateful for.

She rounded the final corner and her eyes widened, relief flooded through her. There he stood with a look of determination and concentration on his face. Behind him stood Ruby, her father, and a younger man she hadn't met. Ruby was looking absolutely astounded and said something that she couldn't make out over the squeak and squeal the wheels were making. The cart came to a stop and with a sharp gesture the bracelet released her. She gasped with shock. Her mind racing a mile a minute, the young man stepped forward and pulled her out of the cart to set her on her own two feet. She felt relief rush through her the instant that she touched back down. She was safe, the ordeal was over.

"Belle, are you alright," Rumple said stepping close to her timidly, searching her face, hoping that she was still herself. She took a few deep breaths, had this really happened? Had everything really turned out alright? She may very well have been the luckiest woman in the world.

"I, uh, I think so," she said her adrenaline still making her heart hammer.

"You remember who I am?" he asked, looking like her answer was possibly the most important thing on the face of the earth.

That was the man she knew. She smiled and gave a small nod "I do, Rumpelstiltskin, I remember," the wave of relief she felt was nothing compared to the look of it on his face as he stepped forward and pulled her against him. It would be easy to feel just as relieved as he did. He had done a very good thing, but it wasn't the right deed that she wanted or needed. As much as she wanted this one action to fix everything that had happened since the curse broke, it didn't fix anything at all and there was still a lot that he had to answer for. More than when she had left the house! And it wasn't going to be easy telling him this when he was as close to her as he was now, his very scent sending good thoughts into her head to cancel out how she got here in the first place.

With all the strength that she had, she pushed gently away from him, allowing her mind to clear in the empty space. "What's wrong?" he asked with confusion.

Everything. Everything was wrong. But she couldn't think of a way to make it right again. He'd had his chance, he should have taken it. They could have avoided this whole mess in the first place. They could have been sitting in their living room, talking right now, about what really kept him up at night, and why he wanted magic, and why he had been so afraid to tell her all of this in the first place. Nothing was right. "Thank you for what you just did," her voice was cold, and that was what hurt her the most. That was what he had really forced her to become after these two weeks? Cold? It didn't seem fair, but neither had her treatment so far been fair. He should have told her the truth, "but that doesn't change that you're too cowardly to be honest with me."

"Belle, that's not,"

"I tried to tell you Belle," her father interjected, finally saying something, and sounding happy at her words. It made her stomach turn over. After all he had done, all he had said, and he was happy that he was right! Her heart was shriveling into a dried up prune and he was happy! She felt like she was seeing her father for the first time as he really was. He was just as much a beast as Rumpelstiltskin. "Come with me darling-"

"After what you just tried to do to me," she yelled back, a small laugh of disbelief in her voice. Why did everybody think she was controllable? That with only the right words or the right actions she would be compliant? He was taking advantage of her situation just like Rumpelstiltskin had done, and she was tired of it. "You're no better father! You don't get to decide what I do or how I feel. I do." She stated, feeling power and freedom in her words. She didn't know that it would feel so good to speak the words she wanted to say all those years ago. She had never imagined them being so final, and had always hoped that they would bring change, but she was past that hope now.

She cast a quick glance at Rumpelstiltskin, feeling terrible for what she was about to do to them, but knowing that it must be. She couldn't bear to truly look at him for too long though, fearing that he would see the regret and pain on her face. "If either of you cared about me," she explained, moving away from the pair of them, "you would have listened." And they wouldn't have treated her like she was a child that couldn't make up her own mind or decisions. And that was something she wouldn't tolerate in _her _life anymore. She turned and looked between the two of them, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "I don't want to see either of you again," she stated clearly, then cast a final glance at the man she loved, wishing that love really was something that she could turn on and off, because it would certainly make this much easier on the two of them. "Ever," she said finally before turning to leave of her own free will.


	64. Broken Fragments

She wrapped her arms around her, still feeling stunned she'd actually had the courage to do it, to say those words and leave. It appeared that the others had been just as shocked as she was, because no one argued, or tried to stop her, or came after her. Except for one. She heard hurried footsteps behind her, and as the tears ran down her nose and cheeks she couldn't decide if she wanted it to be him or not. Only a great gesture, a miracle could fix this and she didn't know if he had the ability to perform an act that big or that good. Suddenly she felt a slender arm around her shoulder and looked up into the consoling face of the woman she'd met at the diner, Ruby.

"Come on," she said determinedly hurrying her away from the mine "looks like you'll be needing that room after all," she muttered before walking over to the car the stranger had brought her here in. He sat in the front seat yet again, looking confused as the two of them walked over to the car. The window was rolled down and Ruby peered in at the man across the seat. "Take us to town," she ordered.

"Oh, I don't think-"

"Take us," Ruby gave him another firm look "to town," she ordered again. She tried the handle of the door that the man had told her was broken and it didn't give.

"Oh, that door is brok-" but with one good yank, and the grinding of metal, the door popped out, and Ruby ushered them into the front seat. Looking absolutely flabbergasted at the woman, the stranger started the car and moved them forward quietly and obediently taking them back to town. She felt silly, sitting between the two of them, trying her hardest not to cry. She felt empty, like a ghost. She was shocked that it had really come to this. Was it really only twenty-four hours ago that she was happy, he was coming home, and she was putting dinner on the table?

Tears threatened to leak from her eyes, and she stared straight ahead as they drove, not really taking in any of her surroundings. In fact, she receded so far into herself that when the car finally did stop, she hadn't realized that they had arrived back in town. It was only when Ruby grabbed for her and took her into a large house that she realized they must have reached their destination. As soon as they were out of the car and the door slammed shut the strange man sped off down the street. Probably to hide, she thought. Not only had her fathers instructions failed, but if Rumple ever figured out the role he'd played...

She couldn't think of it, of him, it was too painful. Instead she focused on where Ruby had taken her. Another large house, just another place to live, she didn't know how many people where here, but even with Ruby standing right next to her she really did feel alone. And part of her wanted to be. After everything that she'd been through today, and since she'd made that very first deal with him, she was not fit for company. Young as she was, she felt as though she had already lived a very long life.

Ruby talked to an old woman for a while in hushed tones, explaining the situation to her and grabbing what looked like a key from the behind the desk herself. Did she know the woman? She looked up just enough to see the woman's wide eyed look turn to one of sympathy. She really didn't care, she was losing her grip on reality and when Ruby turned back to her and led her up some stairs she was just praying for a moment to break down on her own. Ruby unlocked a door on the far side of the house and gave her a small nudge inside. It was basic as could be: a bed, a nightstand, desk, and bathroom. "Are you ok?" Ruby asked timidly.

No. She was nowhere near ok! Ruby was kind and she was thankful for the girl and for all her help, but, right now, it just didn't matter to her. "I, uh, I really just need sometime alone right now," her voice was hoarse, no more than a whisper, hoping she wouldn't offend her or belittle her kindness.

Ruby didn't appear offended. She only nodded. "Cries in the shower are always good," she said with a sympathetic smile. "I'll find you something to wear to bed and check on you in a little bit?" it was a statement but she said it with the inflection of a question, as if she wanted to make sure it would be ok. She nodded, unable to really do anything else, unable to think that far into the future. Ruby set the keys down on the desk, "Granny is downstairs if you need anything in the meantime. I'll be back," she muttered and with another little smile she left.

The door clicked closed and suddenly she felt like she was only half living. She was aware of everything around her, the flower pattern on the bed, the swirling grains on the wood of the nightstand, the curtains swaying in the small breeze that was coming from the small crack of the window that wasn't shut all the way. But on the inside, she felt numb. Like her body had decided that there was too much going on, too many emotions for her to feel all at once and it was protecting her by not letting her feel anything. She imagined that if she wasn't a ghost then she might have been thankful for that. The last time she had left him had nearly killed her, it wasn't until she had crashed and burned from lack of sleep and food that someone had set her straight and helped her back to life. But then, even when she had been well fed and rested, she still hadn't been whole. Not when she'd talked to Dreamy, not when she'd faced off with the Yaoguai, and certainly not when she was a prisoner first in the castle and then to her own mind. There was always something missing. Could she do this again? Could she voluntarily put herself back in that position?

Looking around the room, where nothing belonged to her and nothing felt familiar, she decided to take one step at a time. The shower she thought. At the very least it gave her a goal and something to do. _I want to take a shower. I will survive that long. _She thought to herself as she went into the bathroom and ran the warm water. It was a good idea, she had black dust coating her skin, and felt dirty from where the day had taken her. It would be good, to clean her skin, to start fresh. If there was anything that she had learned from the last time she'd gone through this it was that she needed to take care of her body. It was the only thing about her right now that wasn't broken, and she would need something of the strength that it provided her to survive the days ahead. That mistake she could remember clearly.

As it turned out, she didn't cry. She tried but it seemed that she was even past sadness. And another problem confronted her, she had nothing to wear, nothing that was hers. He'd created it all for her and it was all back at his house, along with her toothbrush and hair brush. She reached for the blue dress she'd been wearing and towel dried her hair before stepping out again into the room and finding Ruby perched on the chair by the desk. "Sorry to startle you," Ruby said with an apologetic look. It wasn't necessary. She hadn't been startled, she wasn't anything.

No! Her mind gave a wisp of something like stubbornness, a reaction to that thought. She wasn't no one. She hadn't had a thought like that since she was imprisoned in the asylum. She wasn't going back to that life again. Not even this could make her that mindless person again. She had to fight it. "Ah," her voice was dry and scratchy, but at least she had managed to talk. "It's alright," she choked out, with a voice devoid of any hope.

Ruby stood up, looked at her, then sighed and moved around her to a strange looking bag she'd set on the bed. "Ruby wasn't big on PJ's, something I'm still trying to work on, but this is a T-shirt from one of my ex-boyfriends. I figured you could sleep in it. It's clean!" she added suddenly with a reassuring smile. She took the piece of fabric that she was offering and held it in her hands. The style was strange and unfamiliar but the feel of it was soft. She would be comfortable in it, maybe not as comfortable as she'd been in the nightgowns he'd given her but it would do and at least she could take the dirty clothes off.

"Um," she was trying to think of something to say, something to talk about when she replayed the words that the girl had said over in her mind. She had referred to herself in the third person, only half embracing herself, her Storybrooke self. Who was the woman that she was with then? "You said 'Ruby'," she pointed out "Who are you? Really?"

Ruby gave her a small smirk, a hint of regret or maybe nostalgia in her eyes for the days gone by. "I was called Red in our land," she found this somewhat funny, especially looking at the girls red blouse. The two names were so similar, but then again she could easily see the relation to Rumpelstiltskin and the name Mr. Gold. "And you, your Mo French's daughter," she felt her chin tremble, yet another relationship she'd managed to ruin today. She'd barely been back with her father before she was telling him she never wanted to see him again.

But before regret could steal over her again she came to a startling conclusion. She had meant it, maybe more for him than for Rumple. What he had done, what he had tried to do, was inexcusable and crazy! She never wanted to see him again or ever be associated with him, not if he couldn't accept her for who she was, or who she still loved. "Not anymore," she muttered, feeling spite at her words. Well that was something, an emotion at least. Not the one she wanted to have at the moment, but at least it was something.

Ruby only nodded and looked at her like she understood. "So that would make you Princess Belle, in our land. Right?" she asked, her eye brows perking up, encouraging her to answer.

"Not anymore," she repeated. She didn't want that life either. She was stuck again. Forever doomed to be coming back to the in between. A thin, lacy, frameless place that was neither here nor there. She was tired of it.

"My best friend is a princess too," Ruby added "Snow White, have you heard of her?" She nodded. Who hadn't? Her celebrity was known far and wide, now even more so since the curse was an act of revenge against her. She was the reason the Evil Queen had cast it. He'd had no problem telling her about that while they were together, only himself. "She and her daughter, Emma, they're not here right now. They're, uh," Ruby gave an awkward embarrassed sort of smile and wiped a tear from her eye "well, I don't know exactly," she said all at once, like she was surprised that she had said it out loud, like she was wondering why she had. But it was her experience that people had a tendency to voice their feelings when they were barely hanging on by a thread. When they were desperate for someone to help them. Snow White was her best friend, and she was gone. Maybe she wasn't the only one missing someone tonight.

"Do you know if they're ok?" she asked, sympathetically.

Ruby shook her head, and gave another awkward smile that hid her worry and sadness. "Nope," she muttered. "Uh, so, anyway," she turned back to the strange bag.

"What is that?" Belle asked timidly pointing at the bag.

Ruby looked at her, then back to the bag again like she wasn't sure what to make of her ignorance. "It's a gym bag," she stated with as much confusion as she felt. Ruby raised her eye brows and had a look on her face like she was trying to contemplate asking a question. "How," she began, trying to find the words "how 'kept' were you, exactly?" Ruby asked finally.

She sighed. No love, no family, nothing to her name, and not a clue what a gym bag was. If anyone deserved to know, it was the girl that had rescued her. "It's a long story," she warned.

Ruby smiled and pulled out a grocery bag that she'd seen him bring home numerous times from the depths of the gym bag. "I brought rocky road," she said holding up the bag to reveal a strange cylinder within it. "I figured we could sit and talk about how much men suck or about our parents or even just about the weather. But long complicated stories work just as well."

She nodded. She didn't know what rocky road was but it sounded like a good plan. She changed into the strange, but comfy T-shirt and returned to the main room, sitting on the bed as Ruby had taken the only chair. She handed her a spoon and a bowl of the cold rocky road which turned out to be the best thing she had tasted in this world yet. She talked. A lot. About everything, from who she was before to the deal she had made, her love and capture, her non-existent life here and finally arrived at the present. She only skipped some of the information that she'd gotten about Rumpelstiltskin, refusing even in their current state to divulge any of it to anyone.

Ruby was a good listener, she nodded in all the right places and smiled when she was happy and furrowed her brow whenever the story turned sad. She didn't pry, she didn't ask her anything or question her motives. In fact the only thing she said the entire time came after she had finished the story. "So, Mr. Gold huh?" She had only nodded and taken another heaping spoonful into her mouth, still feeling protective of the few of his secrets she carried with her. Ruby seemed to understand, and instead of questioning her loyalty asked with a humorous tone "So does he ever take the suit jacket off?"

She managed a smile at that and a little snort, the only type of laughter she could handle given her present situation. "Yes," she muttered remembering all the times she'd seen him without it, something he must not have done in town that often, otherwise Ruby wouldn't have asked. "Yes, he does take the jacket off."

After a few hours of sitting in each other's company Ruby gathered up the now empty cylinder, she briefly caught the word "ice cream" written on the side. Ruby unloaded the rest of what was in the gym bag she had brought. "I figured you'd need me to cover the basics," she explained handing over a hair brush, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bottle of scented soap. "I hate the generic stuff Granny has here." She looked at her again, like she wasn't positive leaving her alone was a good idea then nodded to herself. "You should try and get some sleep," she commented. "We'll do what we can in the morning," Ruby left a few minutes later, offering her a hug and way to get in touch with her if she needed anything.

And then she was alone again. It was in that dead space that all the broken pieces of her life began piling up around her again, threatening to suffocate her as they had before Ruby had come. Maybe Ruby's concerns were well founded. Maybe the worst enemy she had right now was herself. _I will go to bed. I will survive this night. _It was another goal, something else she could look forward to, something that chased away her sorrow and grief. Maybe sleep would grant her some peace.

She shut off the light and crawled into the space the little bed offered, she tried to make herself comfortable but found that she couldn't. Then, understanding why she couldn't, she glanced to her right, the empty spot of the bed that had been his, and sighed. She turned and looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing to do now but wait for the sun to rise and hope that with it she could begin to rearrange the broken fragments of her shattered world and form a new life.


	65. Getting Better Already

To say she woke up would have implied that she had gone to sleep in the first place, and she wasn't sure if she had. The sun was streaming through the window, birds were singing merrily, and she heard the strange sound of cars passing by the road below her. Storybrooke was awake and alive and moving on. The world continued despite the fact that to her it had ended yesterday. She pushed herself up, and looked around the unfamiliar little room, down at the empty spot next to her and the unruffled blankets that had experienced no tossing and turning. Twenty-eight years she'd been in the asylum, a tower before that, a dungeon before that, and her own luxurious bedroom before that. She'd slept alone her entire life, taking up the entire space of whatever she'd had to sleep on. But only a few weeks in his bed, a few weeks in his arms, sleeping soundly beside him had ruined her for the rest of her life. Adjusting to sleeping alone was going to take some getting used to.

She was wondering what to do now, where to begin her life when suddenly a piece of paper lying on the floor caught her eye. It looked as though maybe it had been shoved under the door. Grateful for the distraction, she scooted off the bed and rushed over to it, straightening the strange T-shirt over herself as she went. She opened the folded piece of paper and read the strange unfamiliar writing. _"You can borrow these for the day and when I get off work this afternoon we'll go shopping. Come down to the diner when you are ready for breakfast. –Ruby"_ She smiled at the words on paper, thankful that she had chosen to step inside the diner yesterday, it had been the one good thing that came out of that entire mess. She reread the note and looked around in confusion. Shopping? For clothes? What was that supposed to mean? Was there a place where she could get clothes like food at the open market back home? And what was she supposed to be borrowing in the first place?

From the crack under the door she noticed that the light was distorted and she rushed to open it. Hanging from the door knob was plastic grocery bag, that she had seen him bring home dozens of times. She closed the door and set the bag on the bed, pulling the objects out one at a time. A warm looking red top without sleeves, chilly for this time of year but it would do, a pink skirt that seemed to complement the top and at the bottom a pair of shoes. She smiled at the gift, grateful she didn't have to put on the dirty things she'd been wearing yesterday. The style was so clearly Ruby, right down to the color, but it wasn't much different than what he'd given her to wear. She'd never considered that she hadn't been given a choice at what kind of clothes to wear, what kind of styles she liked, they'd always been provided for her. Ruby said they'd go looking for clothes later, maybe she could pick something out on her own, figure out for herself what she wanted to wear.

She smiled at the idea, it was a type of freedom, a type of relationship she'd never had before. It was a choice that she'd never had before, and it was something to get excited about. But as quickly as it came the smile vanished. It was a new freedom but it came with a high price, she only wished that she could be sure it was worth it, but she suspected that she wouldn't know that for a while. Only time would tell for sure if it ever would be.

She shook her head at the discouraging thought. She couldn't let herself think that way. She'd spent the entire night thinking about him and it was doing nothing but making her feel worse, she had to move on with life, even if that meant taking one agonizing step at a time.

She dressed quickly, the clothes were a tight fit but they worked in the end. Ruby was taller and more slender than she was, the skirt barely touched her knees and she didn't want to think of how short it probably looked on her, but she made it work. Then with a deep sigh she walked out the door, remembering to take the key with her, and down the stairs.

The old woman she'd seen yesterday gave her a small smile and timid look over her glasses as she appeared in the front area of the large house, although she supposed it was an inn. "Ruby's at the diner," she said in a stern voice that made her think she didn't want to ever cross this woman. With a deep swallow and a nod that she understood she left the inn, which now that she saw the sign outside was actually called a "Bed and Breakfast" and walked to the diner, not pausing to wonder why an inn was called such a strange name and where the "breakfast" part was. She really was hungry.

Fortunately the diner wasn't far and when she walked in she found it busier than it had been the day before when she'd first stepped inside. The smells were different too. "Belle!" she glanced up and saw Ruby behind the counter; she waved her to come over and pointed to a tall empty chair at the counter across from her. "Oh, good, those clothes fit!" she said looking her over, "We'll get you some of your own this afternoon since I don't have many that are loose enough." She commented "and I knew you had your own shoes but those were just too cute and matched too well not to let you have them," she smiled.

"Oh, yes," she commented, wondering how long smiling would hurt, wishing it could be genuine. "Thank you I, I really appreciate it," Ruby looked at her with sympathy like she knew that she really wasn't in the mood to chat about clothes, and she wondered if the girl had only been trying to distract her. "Come and sit," Ruby said motioning to the seat before her, "I'll get you some breakfast. Do you like orange juice?" she asked. She nodded happy that there was something familiar in this new life.

She watched Ruby write something down and make herself busy before she brought her a glass of orange juice with the same tube she'd used yesterday in the iced tea. "Um, Ruby," she called before she could flutter away again. She took a long pull of the drink and Ruby leaned across the counter. "What is this called," she motioned to the tube she'd just used to take a drink.

Ruby gave her a friendly, thankfully non-condescending, smile. "Straw," she answered. Belle took another drink from the straw. One step at a time she would learn this land. "So," Ruby whispered suddenly, low enough for the two of them to hear but not enough for some of the others around her to eavesdrop, something she was incredibly grateful for. "How are you? Did you sleep?" she asked her brows furrowed with worry and sorrow for her. It was nice, knowing that someone genuinely cared about her like that. She didn't think she'd have survived yesterday without her.

"I didn't, actually," she admitted sadly, but it didn't matter, Ruby had already known that she was having a hard time with it all. "I just couldn't stop thinking."

Ruby nodded. "I figured, but it'll get better. You'll see," a bell chimed somewhere and Ruby held up a hand, stopping their conversation for a moment as she walked away. She felt bad, guilty even. Ruby had been so kind to her, so amazingly accepting of her. She'd lost a lot but she had gained a friend and she needed to be more grateful for that, act a little more thankful toward her, instead of always acting depressed and like her life was ending all over again every minute. This would get better. Ruby was willing to help her. Now she just needed to help herself. It was time to stop being ignorant of this world around her, she would need all the help that she could get with that. Suddenly Ruby set a plate down before her: pancakes, eggs, and bacon. "This one is a classic." Ruby explained "the syrup goes on the pancakes, the, um, brown things, but I kind of like when it gets on everything," she whispered to her, happy to make small talk.

She should really look on the bright side. She'd already had known what the foods were. She was well on her way already. But she'd never had syrup and something about her comment made her laugh, a true laugh, she didn't even know she'd had that much happiness in her to laugh. "You know, uh," she looked across at her new friend, she really was grateful for her kindness, so much so that she didn't even have the words to describe how thankful she was. But Ruby should know, "thank you," she said settling on the easy simple words. "I mean, not, not just for this, but um," she took a deep breath, her mind had gone to the place she didn't want it to go to again. "for everything," she said finally settling on the words.

Ruby smiled "no worries," she said "stay here until you're on your feet, Granny will be fine with it," she said in a reassuring tone. Granny. Granny's diner. Granny's Bed and Breakfast. Suddenly another piece to the puzzle fell into place. The old woman at the place she was staying. The way Ruby had moved around the house easily and quickly, snatching up keys like she owned the place. The way she worked comfortably here and no one disturbed her. "Granny" wasn't just an affectionate name for the old woman, it was her grandmother. And she was letting her stay as long as she needed. She was about to offer her thanks yet again when Ruby rolled her eyes in a way like she'd just remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot," she watched her reach into a pocket and pull out a small black box tied with white string. "_Someone _dropped this off for you at the front desk," she said showing her the box and setting it down by her plate. She didn't have time to ask who had left it for her because someone had called Ruby's name and she walked away.

She looked at the small box in her hand and after looking around to see if anyone was watching she pulled the string off and tossed the lid aside. Inside was nothing but a key. Curiously she pulled it out and read the strange paper tag attached to it. "Library," it read. Her heart beat inside her chest and excitement began to fill up the space of sadness of her. Without thinking or explanation she hopped off the tall chair and out the door quickly. Leaving her breakfast forgotten on the table behind her.


	66. Taking off the Mask

The second that she read the word on the key, she knew her luck was changing. Breakfast was forgotten, as she took the key and hurried out the door, forgetting even to explain it to Ruby. She was proud of herself for not running all the way there and keeping her excitement contained wnough that people didn't cast her odd glances. Finally she stepped up to the white doors with strange paper covering the windows and fit the key into the lock. Her breath caught in her lungs as she swung them open and she smelled that wonderfully familiar smell of old paper. Books!

Smiling, she looked around the front area, strange, large steel doors, a big wooden desk with the words "circulation desk" written on the front in silver, wide columns that seemed to go on forever, and all around her books and nothing but books. It needed a good dusting, the windows would need to be uncovered and cleaned, but it was nothing that a little bit of hard work couldn't do. Everyone in Storybrooke seemed to have a place they belonged, if she couldn't belong with him, this would have to be the next best thing. She would make it her own, by the time she was ready to open it up to the world it would never be recognizable.

"We shall sit in our library," she heard the familiar voice and went still, wondering how long it would take before her heart would stop skipping when she heard it "and yet be in all quarters of the world," he stepped out from between the bookshelves, as silently and mysteriously as he used to. Instinct told her to go to him. Between the difficult night she'd had and the naturally strong pull of true love screaming at her, she wanted desperately to wrap her arms around him and never let go. She had to remind herself to stay put, the time for that was over.

"You gave me the key?" she asked with eye brows raised. She should have guessed, a gift of books was not a new trick for him.

"I heard you were interested and I uh" he shrugged "I made some inquiries" he explained. She stopped in her tracks and stared down at the key in her hand with sorrow. She didn't want to take it, not like this. She wanted it, but not if it was going to be used as bribery, like he had admitted the other one had been. _"Your library was given to make me feel better," _she recalled him saying_ "but when I knew you saw me as more than I saw myself, I realized it was more than that. I had an unexplainable urge to make you happy."_ It wouldn't work this time. She wouldn't take it to ease his guilt, and it wasn't what would make her happy. There was only one thing that could do both. And she knew that he would never give it. "There's an apartment for the caretaker if you want it," he added.

"If this is some way to win me back, after everything you've…"

"That's, that's not why I'm here," he winced at her words and cut her off with a wave of his hand. She wanted only to tell him politely 'no' and that he could have his library back, but the words came out harsh, spilling all the hurt and anger she had inside her. She opened her mouth to say something, shaking her head as she tried to find the right words in the mess of emotions running through her. She was confused as to why else he would come but then remembered that she wasn't supposed to care anymore. It was too soon to be seeing him again, especially after everything that had happened. He needed to leave, this was going to be hard enough for both of them and there was no need to make it any worse.

She watched as he walked slowly towards her, senses heightened by his presence. "I came because, your right" she was glad when he stopped walking, she didn't think she could handle it if he got any closer, she didn't think he could either. The look on his face held so much more pain than she'd ever seen before, she couldn't find the words to tell him to stop talking though. "About me," he paused and she brought herself back to what he was saying. She knew she'd been right, but about which time was he referring to? "I am a coward." The words sent her reeling. He said it like he'd never admitted it before. And the words made him look almost smaller somehow, weaker, but behind that there was also relief, like they freed him, too. "I have been my entire life" he continued with a false smile. She had to swallow to keep herself from frowning at the turmoil she could see taking place inside him, but she wouldn't give in.

"I tried to make up for it by collecting power, the power became so important, that I couldn't let go," he looked like he might cry, but was managing to keep it in. "Not even," he paused and took a deep breath "when that meant losing the most important person in my life." He wasn't looking at her any more, he was looking through her, focusing on a memory that she couldn't rescue him from. She wasn't so arrogant to think that she was the most important person in his life, she'd known who that was ever since she'd found the clothing stowed away in the castle.

So she took a deep breath and nodded with understanding finishing the tale for him, "your son." The words brought him back to the world she was in, again, and he looked at her like he'd forgotten she was there for a moment. It was suppose to be a somber moment but she had to fight to hold back a smile. He had finally told her what happened to his son. All those years of secrecy and evasion, now she finally had answers. Truthful ones.

He looked shocked for a moment then glanced at the floor, as if he was contemplating something in his head. "Baelfire," his breath caught in his throat and then came out too fast, as awkward and loud as the name he just shared. He said it like it was the hardest thing to say in the world to say, harder even than admitting he was a coward. Maybe it was, but when he looked back up at her he was wearing a smirk, it was the closest thing she'd ever seen to a proud fatherly smile, "is his name." She couldn't help but feel her lips begin to curve in a smile with him. A sudden feeling of hope and amazement replacing the anger that she felt earlier. "After he left I dedicated myself to finding him," he continued "I went down many, many, paths until I found a curse that could take me to the land that he'd escaped".

Her nerves gathered in her chest and she gave a little snort as suddenly things fell easily into place, and she knew where the Evil Queen got the idea for this curse from, "here" she muttered, startled that she hadn't realized it before now. The look on his face was confirmation enough. The Queen wasn't capable of inventing a curse this grandiose, not like he was. She should have seen it coming.

"And now I find myself in this little town" he looked around the library before looking back at her "with only one thing left to do," he paused, hopeful that she'd figure it out herself. "Wait for the curse to be broken, so that I can leave, and find him" he finally said with confidence but also hesitation.

She could feel happiness stirring inside of her all over again as she realized that in all the years he'd lived, he had probably never told this information to another soul. And he'd certainly never given away his master plans to anyone else in his life, if only because he'd never had anyone else in his life to give them to. He had finally taken off his mask. It hadn't slipped, she hadn't pried it away when he wasn't looking; he'd taken it off himself, willingly exposing himself to her in a way he'd never done before. And that was probably the bravest thing she had ever seen him do in their short time together.

But there was still one thing missing, the question she had asked yesterday morning was still unanswered, and it didn't have an effect on anything that had happened since he got to this land, since that moment she got her memories back. And she still wanted an explanation "but instead of looking for him you, you, brought magic" she accused. No sooner had the curse been broken and he'd brought magic, he hadn't even known he couldn't cross the line and he hadn't gone looking for his son, he'd gone straight for the well. He had gone back to magic the first moment he could.

"Because I'm still a coward" he insisted more confidently this time, like he was finally embracing what he'd been running from all along, like it made complete sense. And she supposed in a way it did. It wasn't an excuse, it was a reason, and it didn't make it better, but it explained a lot. He looked away from her, too ashamed to meet her gaze, and that very fact was making it harder by the moment for her to stay away from him. "Magic has become a crutch" he added, finally looking up to face her "that I can't walk without, and even if I could, I now know I could never leave this place."

She released another breath knowing that if she didn't do something now, she'd give in. Her mind was already telling her that it was ok to go to him, to comfort him. She glanced at the bookshelf, it was closer, but it wasn't complete surrender. He'd taken a step forward and so would she. "Because anyone who leaves forgets the people they love," she leaned against the hard bookshelf, not willing to let herself get any closer but still meeting his eyes, she wouldn't relinquish her hold on them. She understood now, and it's just as sad a tale as she always thought it would be, maybe worse considering the circumstances. Everything that had happened over the last few weeks, his moodiness, the sadness that had invaded their home, the unknown reason not being able to cross the town line had upset him, this was it, and it all made sense. Every last bit of it.

"So when you go to look for Baelfire," she had to take another deep breath to get control of her own emotions. His sadness was magnifying her own, thus was the power and pull of true love, "you won't know him" but her control failed and her voice broke on the last word. She understood the impossible situation he'd been put in and knew how trapped he must have felt. She wished that he had told her, then, yesterday morning, that night at his castle, any of the moments that they'd been together! She could have helped, she could have helped carry his terrible burden of knowledge. She knew what it was like to be trapped. She was a princess who had seen the inside of more prison cells than she'd care to admit. But, she swallowed, at least he had told her. It had taken a long time, and it had taken her leaving for him to do it, but there it was laid out on the table between them.

He glanced away from her again, still looking overwhelmed by his own words and actions, before shaking his head in an effort to collect himself and his emotions. She feared that he might not manage, that he might actually cry and she realized that if he did she wouldn't be able to stay away. Her instinct to comfort was stronger than her ability to be upset "Magic comes with a price" he said sadly, more to himself than to her, like it's the reason behind all of this. He was waiting for her to respond, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Her anger dissipated long ago, but she couldn't think of a single thing to tell him that would fix this. She had a hard time thinking that he could be so shocked by such a fact. She had heard him repeat it so often to others that it was the first thing she had learned about magic. Had he really thought he was immune? Did he think that he alone could outrun the circumstances of such a thing? She doubted very much sometimes if he, or even people like the Evil Queen, really believed that magic was as controllable as it seemed.

"Belle, I have to break this new curse. That's why I was using magic, that night you saw me, down in the basement." She looked away quickly, upset that she had so quickly gone from angry to regret. "I have lost, so much that I have loved" he croaked out "I didn't want to lose you, again" he stressed "without you knowing everything."

And suddenly, without knowing if he had meant to or not, she understood something else. She understood why he'd let her go in the first place, all those years ago in his castle. She'd been half right. It wasn't the power that meant more to him than her, it was Baelfire. And he had needed his magic to find him. As it should be. She couldn't stand between them. She wouldn't feel jealous of the boy, she was better than that. And besides she could understand the love of a parent and a child. She'd had it herself until recently. But she wished that he understood that their love was important too. It wasn't better and it wasn't worse. It wasn't more and it wasn't less. It was just different. And it meant that she needed to hear these things when she asked. If he loved her as he claimed then she deserved to know. She wanted to be the one that got to know everything about him. And she wanted him to know that she wouldn't share that knowledge with anyone. He needed to trust her, like she trusted him.

She still trusted him.

He took the last few steps toward her, closing the distance, and placed his fingertips so lightly against her cheek she wouldn't have known they were there if she didn't see it. She realized that she had started to cry, that she wouldn't be able to hold the sea of emotions in any more. "Good-bye, Belle" he said bravely, showing more of the man in him than she'd ever seen. And she knew it was hurting him just as much as it was killing her, as she watched him walk away. She hadn't realized that he would actually let her go. She didn't think he would honor her request and leave her in peace. And she didn't want him to. He'd told her the truth, the library wouldn't have fixed this, it wouldn't have eased his guilt and it wouldn't have made her happy. The truth was the answer, and he'd given it. That had to count for something. They had work to do, but when hadn't they had to fight and work to be together. She leaned her head back against the shelf, letting the books crash into her as she glanced up at the ceiling for a solution. She knew what she had to do, and for a moment wondered if she would regret it somewhere down the line. Probably. They seemed to be stuck in this unending cycle. But she couldn't help it. She couldn't let him go; her heart wouldn't let him go. She had no choice, because she couldn't let it end like this.

She picked herself up off the bookshelf and stepped forward "Do y…have you ever had a hamburger?" she called after him, before he could reach the door, calling out the first thing that had popped into her head. She didn't know if it was right or not and she swallowed hard, nervously as she watched him stop.

And when he finally looked back at her, the breath left his body in relief. "Yes, of course," he whispered, happily.

Of course he had. She wasn't an idiot but when it came to this world it was still new. She rolled her eyes at her own ignorance, smiling at it so she'd feel less awkward. "Well, I haven't" she admitted, "but I hear that Granny's makes a great one. Maybe, maybe we could try it sometime?" she offered timidly. She watched his reaction, hoping that he received the message she'd been trying to convey. Things couldn't go back to the way they were, not yet. But with time, hopefully they'd get there. He smiled and this time he couldn't conceal the tears swimming in his eyes. She realized that mask or no mask, he cried about as much as she does, and he felt just as powerfully and sometimes painfully as she does. And she thought for a moment, that maybe he could read her thoughts and emotions just as plainly as she could read his.

"I would like that," he nodded.

She knew, this had been to get her back. But she didn't feel like she'd been manipulated, like before. She felt successful. Leaving him had worked. He had seen that she was more important to him than his power, than his secrets, and he had figured out what it would take to get her back. It was a gamble, a last ditch effort that he had made hoping he could keep her in his life. Hard as it was for him she was glad it had worked. He had walls, and she knew exactly what she had to do to break them down. But she'd never before considered that she had some of her own, and maybe it was possible that he knew how to break them down just as precisely.


	67. Complications

"Belle, you need to get out of this apartment." Ruby was pacing in front of her nervously like a caged animal. But she continued to sit on the couch watching her go back and forth.

She had left the apartment. Not for much, she admitted, but she had left it. She'd been spending a lot of her time in the library. After years of being closed off, it was filthy and she wanted it to be open sometime in the near future, there was just so much to learn and put together before that could happen. But she knew this arguement wouldn't work with Ruby, they both knew the reason she hadn't left the protected confines of the apartment and library. If she was honest with herself, she was nervous that if she spent too much time outside, she might run into him. And she just wasn't ready to see him alone again. Eventually she'd have to. But not yet.

"I'm just not ready," she told Ruby honestly. Her friend knew the situation, knew what she had been through and what she was going through. She'd stayed by her side anyway, knowing that one wrong move and she very well might upset the worst person to make angry in town. She was either fearless or unaware of the danger she'd placed herself in just by being her friend.

Ruby stopped pacing at her admission and sat down next to her on the couch. "Belle," she reached across and grabbed her hand between her own, a comforting gesture. "No one will expect you to be ready. Whether or not they know what is going on, I doubt anyone is going to ever look at you like that ever again, trust me no one wants to upset Mr. Gold," she muttered almost sarcastically. "But that doesn't mean that you have to stay up here and sulk, or punish yourself! You wanted to have a life, so come out and have a life" she insisted in a stern but sympathetic voice.

"The dwarves have discovered fairy dust, this is a good thing! Come celebrate with us! I'll be there the whole time, it's just a couple of drinks, and then you can come right back here," she released her hand and curled up tighter on the other end of the couch. "Please, I can't spend a lot of time out tonight, and to be honest, I could really use a friend."

She looked over at Ruby and saw something she hadn't noticed before. There was something dark behind her eyes. Had she had that look the entire time she'd been here and she just hadn't noticed? She felt a stab of guilt as she looked over at her. She knew that expression, she'd lived with it every day for a long time. She was hiding a secret of some kind. "Ruby," she asked with a suspicious inflexion in her voice "What's going on?"

Ruby only shook her head. "Nothing," she smiled, another expert at hiding her emotions, "I could just use someone there that I know, a friend, you know since Mary Margaret…" her voice trailed off and she felt her heart twist.

Sometimes she was so consumed with thoughts of Rumpelstiltskin that she forgot what was right in front of her. Ruby had been having a bad time with Snow White and her daughter missing. She had been a good friend to her. Taking her in when she had nowhere to go. Helping her adjust to the world outside of his house. And most importantly she didn't judge her or look at her strangely like everyone else around town seemed to after word of who she was and where she'd been since the curse broke had gotten out. Her association with Rumpelstiltskin was almost as bad as being him in a lot of their eyes. Ruby was offering her a lifeline, something to do, a way to meet some new people. And if Ruby needed her, then she owed it to her to be there for her. If Ruby needed friendly company then she would be friendly company tonight, Rumpelstiltskin aside. After a few moments she nodded and went to change clothes.

She came out of the room in one of the new dresses that she and Ruby had bought at the woman's store and the pair of them walked down to the diner. She tried not to notice how Ruby suddenly changed sides as they passed by his shop and tried to strike up a conversation. But she couldn't help but steal a glance inside, her heart fluttering excitedly at the prospect of catching a glimpse of him, but she discovered that the lights were off, and a look around the corner showed her his car was gone. He wasn't in town any more. He was alone.

It wasn't as if she expected him to still be here. Or that she thought he would have gone to this celebration even if they were together. She knew that he was about as social as she felt right now. The thought of him sitting at home, by himself, or worse over in his shop because he didn't want to go home to an empty house broke her heart. They hadn't been separated that long but she already missed him more than she thought she would. It was good for her, she knew, to be gone. She should be exploring this world but being separated from a person's true love was wrong, and most of the time she just felt too depressed to do anything but focus on the library below the small apartment. They needed a better way to do this. Not seeing each other at all was just not as rewarding as she had hoped it would be.

The diner was crowded, but not in its normal way. Instead of looking like it was packed for dinner it looked like there was a party going on. There were people at the tables eating but there was also a large group of people wandering around the open room talking to their friends and family members. Everyone seemed to have a mug of ale, or, as Ruby called it here, beer, but their smiles had nothing to do with any alcoholic stupor she'd ever seen. Ruby stood there and crossed her arms over her chest, there was a smile on her face as well but hers was one of sadness. She hadn't expected a sad smile, not after she'd been so insistent that she join them.

"Are you ok?" she asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

Ruby smiled and gave a nervous little nod. "Soon enough," she answered mysteriously. "Let's see, you already know David," she said pointing to the man that had come to her rescue that day at the mine. Ruby had told her that he was Snow's husband, and she wouldn't really say that she knew him. He'd pulled her out of the mine cart and she hadn't seen him again. "Mother Superior is the Blue Fairy. Archie over there is Jiminy Cricket. And of course the dwarves they're…"

"Belle!" she glanced over at the familiar voice that had called her name and her eyes widened.

"Dreamy!" she called back stunned.

Dreamy's face fell instantly at the name "It's Grumpy now. Leroy here," he added. Ruby gave her arm a squeeze and said something about grabbing them a couple of beers. She nodded absent-mindedly and continued to look at the dwarf standing in front of her.

"Grumpy?" she asked timidly, wondering what could cause such a drastic name change, especially given the prospect of what was going on in his life the last time that she had seen him.

He shuffled his feet awkwardly at the question. "It's a long story," he informed her, ignoring the question in her voice. "How about you?!" he asked eagerly "I don't think I've seen you around town before. Where have you been hiding since the curse broke?"

Suddenly she understood the reaction that Grumpy had given her perfectly. Hadn't he heard the rumors spreading around town? She wished he had, because she wasn't ready to explain to others what had happened to her yet in her own words. "It's a long story," she responded after a while. They exchanged a smile, acknowledging their shared reluctance of sharing their pasts and what had happened to them after their brief meeting.

"Leroy!" someone called him and he turned his back on her responding to the voice. Wringing her hands awkwardly she walked to the other side of the counter where Ruby was working on getting beers refilled.

She smiled gently when she came over and placed a mug of the beer on the counter before her. "How do you know Leroy?" she asked looking between her and the beer she was pouring into a mug.

"Ah, I…" but at that moment David suddenly called out over the voices.

"Friends!" Everyone's eyes were on the Prince, looking at him with all the respect and honor due to royalty but not necessarily a Sheriff. "It's because of the hard work of the dwarves down in those mines that we found fairy dust. It's because of them that Mary Margaret and Emma, my family, have the chance to come home again soon! We are one step closer to having them back to where they belong. And to that I can only say one thing. Thank you." He paused for a moment and then raised his mug "To the dwarves!" Everyone shouted joyfully and raised their mugs together. Ruby beamed at the news. She knew that she was looking forward to getting her best friend back, just as much as David was looking forward to getting his family back, just as much as she was looking forward to the day when she got the other half of her soul back.

David made a joke with Leroy, which shocked her out of her thoughts. But as everyone laughed she sought out Ruby, and watched as Ruby's smile dulled and she took her tray to pick up some of the dishes off one of the other tables.

Something was wrong. She knew that much. She might not have known her long but she could tell when there was something wrong with her. She should be happy but it was like there was something going on in the back of her mind that kept dragging her down. She was about to walk over to Ruby when the woman suddenly jumped and looked at the area around her feet. "What?! where?!" she exclaimed. Belle was almost to her when she realized there was a man talking to her. He'd been standing beside a wall and she hadn't seen him before. She stopped her progress, and hung back, not meaning to listen in, but unable to help it in a small room of people that didn't seem to want to talk with her.

"I meant me," he said pointing to himself. "I was a mouse," he sighed "my name was Gus, I lived in Cinderella's pantry, I ate cheese, and gnawed on wood. But I preferred cheese." Ruby beamed again, only this time the smile was more one of confusion than happiness, although she could see the blush creeping up into her neck.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked with a shake of her head.

"I, we haven't had a chance to talk since things changed," he explained roughly, looking for the right words. He was nervous. And Belle smiled knowing what would come next. "I just wanted you to know who I was." She smirked at his words and found herself thinking how nice it must be to meet a man who disclosed information readily rather than having to drag it out under pressure. "Back home," he added, as if it wasn't completely obvious. She was excited for Ruby. Maybe this would make her feel better, whatever the problem, maybe this would be enough to take her mind off of it.

"I, can I," she stuttered "still call you Billy?" she asked with a nervous little giggle.

"You can call me whatever you want," he answered "as long as you let me buy you a drink after your shift?" he asked kindly. She expected Ruby to say yes right away but instead she said nothing "I already know Ruby," Billy continued in her silence "I want the chance to meet Red."

She was quiet for a while, and she couldn't understand why she wasn't responding to such a sweet and kind offer. But then she remembered her words from earlier: she couldn't spend a lot of time out tonight. "Um," Ruby stuttered, and she could hear the torture in just that small sound. She did want to go with him, but she couldn't. She hadn't wanted to tell her what was wrong and it appeared it would be the same with Billy but she didn't want to risk hurting his feelings. "Tonight's actually not great," she attempted to explain. She turned toward Ruby, she needed a friend, and she knew exactly how she could help with this problem "Because…"

"We, uh, we have, uh, plans," she lied wrapping a supportive arm around her. It hadn't been the smoothest lie she'd ever told but he didn't need details, and it gave Ruby the excuse she had so badly needed.

"That's right, um, it's girl's night!" Ruby said happily. "And I'm bringing the cheese. Which has nothing to do with you being a mouse, it has to do with," she looked over at her for help and she offered a confused glance, not knowing how she was going to undo that little mix up "the wine," she finished less than confidently.

"Ok, um, maybe next time," Billy added and walked away, his shoulders slumped with discouragement.

"Thank you," Ruby offered as soon as he rounded the corner.

"I can spot a girl in trouble," she explained, how many times had she been cornered by Gaston that way and wished someone would have come to her aid, given her some excuse not to be around him? Although that was a completely different situation, Ruby liked Billy, she could see it, so what was going on in her life that she needed the excuse in the first place. "He, he seems really nice," she added, hoping she would maybe tell her what was really going on tonight.

But Ruby only glanced up at the clock and her smile of gratefulness faded into a look of fear. "It's complicated," she stated before walking away again.


	68. Expert on Rehabilitation

It hadn't been the happiest day. Someone had been murdered last night. Billy, the man that had attempted to ask Ruby out. She had been expecting Ruby to show up on her door, heartbroken, in need of consoling. She had been anticipating it even, a carton of Rocky Road was already frozen in her freezer upstairs. She had even hoped in some way to get the answers out of her that she'd kept so closely guarded that night at Granny's. She was ready, was prepared for it.

What she hadn't been prepared for was Ruby to show up on her doorstep, heartbroken, with David carrying heavy chains and Granny holding a crossbow, seeking not comfort but shelter. The three of them had taken her into a back room and she'd listen to the story David told her with interest. It answered all the questions that she'd had from that night, and then some, and she deeply regretted that Ruby felt she couldn't trust her with the truth. Although with the gathering mob, she understood why she'd been so hesitant.

It wasn't the craziest thing she'd ever heard of. And she believed it immediately because she could see the seriousness on all of their faces. It was also obvious from the looks that Ruby and Granny kept throwing her, during David's tale, that they all had expected her to shrink away from Ruby with fear and tell them to get out. But she didn't, merely nodded her head and told them that they could set the chains up, she'd be safe here.

They'd stared at her like she was a crazy person, baffled at how easy her acceptence had come, and she had to roll her eyes "obviously you've all forgotten who I'm used to dealing with," she said, finding irony in her choice of her words. She felt a stab of guilt as she remembered that she hadn't seen him in weeks, even after they'd said they'd work on it. Not since he had dropped off some things for the upstairs apartment, and even then she'd asked Ruby to come in and be the middle man because she hadn't thought she was ready to be in such a close space with him alone yet. She shook her head, trying to focus on the situation at hand, "There is very little that I would find surprising these days," she said crossing her arms over her chest.

With her words Ruby had found a safe sturdy place in the library and started to reinforce the length of chains that she'd brought. She and David filled the time by going around the library and making sure the windows were covered and the doors were locked. They weren't so much worried about what would get out as they were what might get in. "These should work," she heard Ruby say as she and David came back into the secure room.

"Thanks for letting her hide here," David said, sounding more like a big brother than the husband of his wife's friend. "The sheriff station isn't safe," he explained nervously once again.

"Of course, it's not every day you find out your friend's-"

"A monster!" Ruby interrupted the hurt and suspicious look on her face upsetting. She smirked at her friend. She hated that word, probably because she had loved dearly every "monster" that she had ever met and in her opinion it was the beasts that didn't know they were monsters that posed the true threat.

"Hunted," she stated clearly, trying to let Ruby know that she was disappointed if she ever thought that she would see her that way. "I was going to say 'hunted'," she said a bit more gently when Ruby cast her eyes down at the floor.

"The crowd is six blocks from here," Granny said suddenly, a look of concentration on her face.

She looked at her alarmed, "You, you have wolf hearing too?"

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Granny shrugged "especially when you run a hotel," she didn't even want to begin to contemplate the meaning behind that statement. After a few weeks she was more learned but still ignorant, and if it meant what she thought it meant, she'd rather be ignorant.

"The only way we're going to get the mob to stand down is if we can prove Ruby had nothing to do with Billy's death," David explained hunched over the table. She wanted to reach out and hug Ruby. She knew that she had liked Billy and that she wasn't a killer. But right now, Ruby didn't believe it and she didn't want to make her friend more afraid of herself then she already appeared to be. It made her want to weep, Ruby was one of the most confident people she'd ever met, she was almost jealous of her for it sometimes, but right now she looked nothing but sad and upset. Suddenly David stood up, "I'm going to need your help," he said, pointing to Granny. He grabbed her own shoulder suddenly, "if the mob comes this way, call us! Come on," he ordered before leaving quickly with Granny.

She and Ruby watched them go, when she looked over at poor Ruby she thought that she might be about to break into tears. As soon as the pair were out of the library, she heard her mutter "I have to go to the bathroom," with a choked voice and hurried away from her in a sprint. She leaned against the closest bookshelf and waited, staring at the ceiling above her.

Ruby hadn't done this. There was no way. She hoped that something that David and Granny would find would be able to provide proof that she wasn't guilty. Living with the thought that she had committed this horrible crime was torturing her and she just didn't know how to stop it. With a deep breath she moved from the shelf out to the front circulation desk, to wait for her. It was a fact of life that people who thought they were monsters tended to push those that cared for them away, in an effort to protect them. She refused to let that happen. The only way to show the good people who thought they were monsters that they weren't was to stand by them and show them that it wasn't true, not just say it.

Finally, after a long while, longer than it took to really go to the bathroom, she heard a toilet flush and a sink running. She watched the door eagerly but it took another few moments before the door opened and Ruby faced her with a shallow impersonation of her usual confidence. "You need to leave," she insisted, predictably "the moons going to be up soon," she informed her walking around the desk and away from her. She may as well have been running.

"Well, will the chains hold?" she asked following her. There was no way she was going to leave her alone through all of this. Ruby had been there for her when her entire world had fallen apart, she was going to be here for her now! That was what friends were for.

"Hopefully," she said like she did this all the time, knowing that David had told her it had been 28 years since she had.

"Then I'm staying." Ruby spun around to face her at her words, fear flickering in her eyes. She gave her the biggest reassuring smile she could muster and reached out to grab her shoulders. "Think of it as girl's night," she said trying to make a joke. Ruby didn't find it funny. In fact she looked not just scared but also angry, like she didn't know why she was making this harder than it had to be. Ruby stepped away from her touch like she was contagious, "what's wrong?"

"I know David wants to believe the best," she explained backing away, looking like she might break into tears again "but I've killed before, and I'll do it again" she grabbed the chain like it was her only chance at safety "everyone in this town is right to be afraid of me,"

"Ok, well, I'm not!"

"You should be!" Ruby yelled, but it was the same old story. The monster was trying to scare her, but it wouldn't work. For whatever reason beasts weren't able to scare her. He never had, and she wouldn't now. People could change, she had seen it, and she wanted her to understand it as well. It felt like déjà vu, telling someone that they were not the sum of their prior sins, but rather that they were who they chose to be. For a moment she half expected it to be a hallucination and the room and woman before her to melt away into his face and his castle. She had to shake her head to get rid of the thought. This wasn't about him, wasn't about them, it was about Ruby, and she needed to be here now.

"No matter what you might have done in your past, David sees the good in you, and that tells me one thing,"

"What?" Ruby asked timidly.

She sighed, of course it wouldn't be obvious to Ruby. "That it's in there, so if we can all see it why can't you?!" she blurted out.

Ruby just looked shocked, like she wanted to believe it, but something was keeping her from that belief. Billy. "You really think so?"

"Trust me," she said, her mind wandering back to Rumple, she really did miss him. "I'm sort of an expert when it comes to rehabilitation." Ruby smirked, like something might have been funny. She'd never divulged any of Rumple's secrets to her, but she had told her about their life, and how she felt with him. Ruby was smart, she knew who Rumple was and who she was, she could put two and two together easily enough she imagined.

"Maybe," Ruby swallowed, like she was trying to hold back tears again "maybe you're right," Ruby stepped forward, and for a moment she thought that she was going to give her a comforting hug, but suddenly she found a cold heavy weight pressing against her wrist, biting into her skin between the metal and the bone. She looked down at the shackle around her, confused. What was she trying to do? And how had she managed to become a prisoner yet again?! "But the towns right too," Ruby insisted "I am a monster, and that's why I need to make sure that I don't ever hurt anyone again!"

"No, no," but Ruby moved around her and out of the room "what are you doing?"

"I can't let you stop me!" she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't. What was she planning that Ruby thought Belle would stop. It couldn't be anything good. "The mob wants a wolf I'm going to give them one, I have to pay for what I've done!"

She felt her jaw drop. "They'll kill you!" she said, realizing too late that Ruby already knew that and had planned on it. It appeared that she had vastly misunderstood the depth of her guilt and self-hatred. It turned out that monsters were indeed different, but at least her beast had some sense of self-preservation that kept the guilt away, prevented him from destroying himself. Ruby didn't seem to be as lucky. She was going to sacrifice herself out of guilt! It was penitence for the life she thought she had taken. And Ruby was right, from where she was now she couldn't do anything to stop her.

"Isn't that what I deserve?" but it wasn't a question, it was a statement, like there was no other option for her but to pay for a crime she didn't even know she had commit. She wasn't going to wait for Granny and David to get back. She wasn't even going to hope they could prove her innocence. In her mind she was guilty. Without another word, Ruby turned and stormed out.

"Ruby!" she called uselessly "Ruby don't! Don't do this!" But the heavy library door slammed after her last word, and she realized that it was too late. The only friend she'd ever made, and she had gone. She was left uselessly imprisoned in her own library and could do nothing to help her. She found herself sitting back against the wall. She could cry for help but she really didn't think anyone would hear her. And besides that would risk someone realizing the wolf was free. There were no right answers, and she let her head fall against the wall behind her and letting mournful tears fall from her eyes.


	69. The Power to Cure the Monster

The clock on the wall accross from her mocked her as time passed by. Every now and then she heard a roar of angry voices, that she assumed was the mob she'd been running from, and even a couple of times a howl. They noises didn't frighten her, at least not yet. The voices of the mob told her they hadn't gotten what they wanted, and the cries of the wolf reminded her that Ruby was still alive. Yet, time ticked on. There, out the window! It was yet another howl! Relief fought to engulf her. It had been an hour since she last heard anything, at least that one howl was something!

She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to yell for help, she really didn't think anyone would hear her. She couldn't call for David, or Granny, she was too far away from the phone. She couldn't break the shackles, they were meant to keep a powerful wolf under control, there was no way that she would break free. And besides, she'd tried hours ago. There was nothing to do but wait, and hope. Hope that someone would liberate her. Hope that it would be Ruby and she would apologize saying everything was fine. Hope that someone would find her before she got hungry, or thirsty, or needed the bathroom.

Suddenly she jumped as she heard the door to the library open and slam shut. "Belle!" his voice echoed out over the wide expanse of the entire library, as he called for her, and despite the desperation situation she felt a wave of familiar relief wash over her. It wasn't who she was expecting, but she couldn't say she was surprised. Of course he knew she was here. Of course he would know when she was in distress. He knew everything. Which meant even if he hadn't been part of the problem at hand, he no doubt knew the fate of her friend.

"Here!" she called from the place Ruby had chained her up at. He followed her voice and she stood up from the one spot she was comfortable on the floor, more than ready to be released. He hurried over to her and his eyes quickly scanned her assessing the situation. He reached out and took her hand in his own. He waved his other hand over the shackle and it popped off her wrist, falling to the ground with a loud clatter. She let out a breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding: freedom. "Ruby," she said with a gasp, she couldn't be distracted. "Is she ok? Is she alright?" she asked eagerly.

But when he looked up at her she saw that look in his eyes that scared everyone but her. It was the look that she knew only she could put a stop to. "She won't be when I'm done with her," he muttered darkly, quickly turning away from her. He meant to leave but she was faster.

"No!" she placed her hands on his chest, determined to stop him. Dark as his words were, they confirmed one thing: Ruby was fine, she was alive. But now she had another problem to worry about, and it was her worst fear made real. It was the risk they both knew Ruby had taken just by being her friend. She had to protect her, she had to once again stand between her and the beast within him. She'd have to trust David to tell the mob that they'd made the wrong conclusion about her, and she had to make him understand that he had done the same.

"No," she cried desperately, "she did it to protect me. She didn't hurt me." The angry expression didn't cease as he picked up her hand and held it in front of her. There were red bruises where the shackle and bone had pinched her skin. She shook her head and placed the hand against his cheek. "She didn't want to hurt me. And I'm not. I'm fine." She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I'm fine," she repeated when he finally put his own arms around her. In this moment, she was fine.

It was a few moments before she realized that she hadn't wanted to see him so soon after what had happened, let alone touch him. But now that she was in the same space she couldn't seem to help herself, it was what she had suspected would happen. She'd missed this. She'd missed him. Weeks of separation caused them to linger together a little longer than they should have, reunions had that effect on people. But finally, she managed to pull back enough to rest her forehead against his own, to see in his eyes that she'd once again soothed the beast. A sudden, and annoying pounding in her wrist reminded her of the situation at hand. Ruby was safe, so long as he remained here. And as long as he was here, she was happy. "I have some ice up stairs," she commented, having a hard time letting go of him.

"I can…"

"Ice" she cut him off a little sternly, remembering the last time she'd been injured and he'd healed her with magic "will work just fine" she assured him. Then she took his hand and they made their way slowly to the back of the library and up to the second floor. She didn't want him to leave, first because she didn't want him to go after Ruby and second because it had been so long since she had seen him that although her head told her that it wasn't time for them to be alone together yet, she just couldn't bring herself to listen.

She unlocked the door to her tiny but pleasant apartment and led them inside. It was all her own, and as much as she'd missed him she had really enjoyed getting to know herself these past few weeks. He may have been hard for others to read but she could see the look of amusement on his face as he looked around. He'd only been up here one time while she'd lived here and that was to deliver her a couple of boxes of clothes and other items, that Ruby had graciously accepted for her, that made the small space more like her than whoever had previously lived here...if anyone.

"Sit," he pointed at the tiny couch with his cane and she fell into old habits, doing as he said. She watched him reach into the freezer, grab a few cubes of ice, and put them into a kitchen towel before hobbling over to where she sat. He made himself comfortable across from her on the wooden coffee table as she handed over her wrist to him. "What happened?" he examined the wrist then settled the ice over it as she told the story, his face tightening with each detail. She had hoped it would help to make him see that Ruby was only helping, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. He shook his head, not taking his eyes off her wrist. "When are you going to see that you do not have the power to cure monsters," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

The comment was eye opening. It wasn't Ruby he was upset with, it was her; for voluntarily placing herself in danger. She knew that he hadn't said it to hurt her or make her feel guilty. It had been said out of fear and hurt. He had said it to comfort himself, to build that wall that she hated back up between them. If it took the rest of her life she wasn't going to rest until she had torn it down brick by brick. She pulled her hand from his grasp and placed it under his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Don't I?" Some of the tension left his face, and she saw the small twitch on his lip that threatened to turn into a smile, before he hid it. But being the stubborn man that he was he took her hand in his again and set the ice back against her wrist, a simple excuse to avoid her eyes.

"That's different," his voice was nothing but a whisper.

"Because you love me?" she tried to look at him, but he didn't say anything just kept staring at her stupid wrist, which for sure wasn't injured this much. She smiled and slid forward, letting her knees bump into his own and placing both hands against his face to brush away some of the hair that had fallen out of place. He wouldn't be able to avoid her this time, he was going to answer her whether he wanted to admit it or not, it had been too long since she'd heard the words. "Because you love me?" she repeated.

He looked her up and down before finally breathing a "yes," like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he couldn't believe she really needed to hear him say it to know his answer.

"I miss you," she admitted honestly. Suddenly she found herself wondering why they had waited so long to have that hamburger.

"I miss you too," he muttered gazing into her eyes. "Belle, you have to know," one of his hands covered her own and he turned his head to kiss her palm so tenderly it made her want to weep. "I don't want to lose you," he muttered against her "not again," he added. She knew that too, not because he had told her but because she could feel it. She could see the pain etched into his face at the impossible thought. Sometimes she forgot, if something happened to either of them, it was as good a death sentence for the other. That was what really bothered him when it came to helping Ruby, he was afraid that she'd get hurt, or worse. She would have done it again, helped Ruby, she knew that she wasn't dangerous. But she would do better to try and remember that in the future. Even if she hadn't really been dead, it had been real for him, and she couldn't bear the thought of ever making him go through that again, or doing it herself.

She leaned in and kissed him. She had meant for it only to be gentle, a comforting reassurance that she understood what he meant, and would remember it. But she knew that she'd held on a little too long for that. She really had missed him terribly, and she hadn't known just how bad until now. "Stay," she muttered "with me, tonight," she finally got out, ignoring every sensible thought that she had that it was a bad idea, that it was too soon, that he should go. But she could be sensible some other time, right now, she needed to be his again.

He looked at her, kept his forehead close to hers, just for the sake of staying close. Somehow she knew he was experiencing the same turmoil in his own mind. They had no choice, such was the simple complexity of true love. And after a moment he nodded and took off the suit jacket, which Ruby had once told her he was never without. For her he was more than Mr. Gold and less than Rumpelstiltskin. It was that person that she craved more than life itself.

Maybe she didn't have the power to cure the monster, but then again maybe she didn't need to. Maybe she just needed to be able to find person that she knew he was, that she knew he could be. They'd been apart for too long but it was time to start to put them back together again. To tear down the wall separating them and put up one that surrounded them.


	70. Righting a Wrong

Sleep threatened to claim her every second, but she wouldn't give into it, she couldn't. It had been weeks since she'd seen him, weeks since she'd held him, and she wasn't going to let unconsciousness take this beautiful, and brief, moment away from her. She wanted to enjoy every fleeting moment they had until it ended...because she knew that one way or another the sun would rise and it would end.

She still didn't know how he'd guessed she was trapped in the library, but she suspected that someone must have told him she was there, she just didn't know who. Ruby had her own problems tonight. Besides she would have known that telling the Dark One, in person, that she'd chained up his true love was a stupid move. She doubted that it had been her, but she couldn't rule out the possibility that she'd told someone else, Granny or David, and they had informed him. From beneath her, his chest heaved a peaceful sigh. Then again, it really didn't matter to her. All she really cared about was that he'd come.

She gave a contented sigh of her own. It was a question that could wait until dawn. She was perched upon his chest, listening to the gentle hum of blood pulsing through his veins, to the rhythmic tap of his heart, and the beautiful sounds of air filling and escaping his lungs. He wasn't asleep. She couldn't see him but she knew that he wasn't. He rarely fell asleep before she did. He was always last to fall asleep and the first to wake up, ever predictable. Besides, though he was quiet, the hand at her back making the trail that she loved, that she had missed in the weeks she'd been gone, was still moving, a tell-tale sign he wasn't asleep.

No, neither seemed to want to give into sleep, but neither did they know what to say in the aftermath.

There had to be a better way to do this. To prove this point to him that she was more important than his magic, that she was trustworthy, that he could change! She knew he could because she'd seen it already. At the heart of the matter it wasn't that he needed to change, precisely, she just wanted him to be the genuine true self that she saw in him, and to let her into his own private world. He could wear whatever mask he wanted in the real world, be as secretive as he wanted, just so long as he didn't hide around her. That would be enough. She had tried everything she could think of, and leaving, being away from him, hard as it was, seemed to be the last hope that she had, the last idea. And if it didn't work, if he still refused to open up...she'd fight for him. She was nearly as predictable as he was. She would always fight for him, give him a second chance, but she'd have to think of yet another idea. She had to believe her stubbornness would pay off, because it was the only way they would ever get to have more moments like these.

The silence encased them, wrapping them in a thick blanket, a bubble of "what next". Happy as she was, she knew this probably shouldn't have happened, because neither of them knew where to go from here, what to do, what to say. She'd have to think for a long time about where this left them. "I think you would have liked him," he muttered suddenly, his chest unexpectedly vibrating with every word.

Half her consciousness was already asleep and the other half was being used to keep her awake, she didn't understand the meaning of his words, or what drove him to say them. "Who?" she mumbled, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Bae."

She was instantly awake, shock coursed through her at the unexpected words. He whispered the name softly, in the voice that told her that he was hoping she didn't hear him, the voice that told her the words were important. It was most unlike him, to tell her something about his past spontaneously. In fact, it wasn't like him at all. The only time he'd volunteered information had been the last time she'd seen him, in the library, weeks ago. Then he'd told her what she needed to hear so that he could get her back, to appease her. It had worked, but there had been an ulterior motive behind those words, just like there always was with him. But this! There was no explanation for what he'd just said, no reason for it at all, at least none that she could see. It was like it had just popped out of his mouth of its own volition.

She remained still, not sure what to do with the sentence. If she asked questions, would he spook and stop talking about it? If she seemed uninterested, would he assume that she was and go to sleep? That was the opposite of what she wanted to happen. Baelfire was a part of him, a crucial part, just as she was. She wanted desperately to know about him. She wanted even more so for him to tell her about the boy because he wanted to, because he trusted her, not because she was forcing him to. Was that what was happening? Had he really and truly finally come to trust her while she'd been gone? Had her plan worked?

She risked a glance up at him. He was looking down at her, examining her reaction to his words, wondering if they would have any effect on her, and what she thought now that he'd said them. "He was brave," he explained in a low rushed voice, "far more of a man at thirteen, than I ever was. He always wanted to do the right thing, he could see the value in others, and in the world around him." The words seemed like they'd been stuck in his heart for centuries, unable to escape and desperate for freedom. Maybe they had been. "He was a lot like you," he added, squeezing her a little tighter than normal.

She wanted to smile but she had heard something in his words that she didn't like, that made her incredibly sad. He'd referred to his son in the past tense. She swallowed as she picked herself up, and settled beside him on her stomach, watching his curious expression as he continued to examine her reaction.

"I'm sure he still does," she said in the most reassuring tone she could muster. Bae was alive. She knew it, she could feel it somehow. And she knew that he knew it too. A man as powerful as he was did not chase after a person for centuries and across distant realms only to discover he'd died. No, he knew Bae was alive, he knew he was here, in this land somewhere. But it wasn't the boy's death he was afraid of now. It was the death of the soul he'd possessed.

"All these years, everything I've done, everything I haven't done," he cast her a small glance before staring up at the ceiling again, "has all been to find him," she knew he was thinking about the moment that he'd let her go. The moment he'd had no choice but to lose her because he never would have made it this far in finding Baelfire, if he hadn't. The moment he'd traded a relationship with her, for a relationship with his son. She wasn't sure what to think of that moment any more. Should she take it in as one of the worst moments of her life? Should she be happy he'd made it this far? Or should she just look on it now as she did most things that concerned him and their past, with understanding? "I can't help but wonder if it's all been for naught," he continued in a harsh and tortured voice, "if I failed long before I even got the chance to try."

"You won't fail," she insisted, but couldn't be positive. She hoped Baelfire hadn't changed, hoped that he still had the courage his father had spoken of. It was the only thing that might allow the tattered and complex relationship to heal

"You don't know that."

"I know you," she snapped back "I don't need to see the future, to see the sacrifices that you've made for your son. You'll find him, I know you will." He was silent. A small part of her took the opportunity to be completely astounded by their conversation. He was telling her about the two topics he kept guarded more than anything else, his son and his fears. And he was doing it without her begging him to tell her. Was this what it was like? Was this was couples talked about under cover of darkness, when no one else was listening? Was this how secrets were confided? How hearts and souls seemed to be magically opened and bound for eternity? How relationships strengthened? This was what she felt she'd been waiting for.

"You're a good man, Rumpelstiltskin," she assured him. He wasn't perfect, but no one was. He had made a mistake, that was clear. His devotion to his son now didn't undo that one instant that he had traded Bae for power, of course, but it also didn't make him the worst father that ever walked the face of the earth. The worst wouldn't have tried this hard to fix the situation, "and a good father."

"I can think of at least one person who would disagree with you," he muttered sadly. He was right. In fact, she was certain that if others knew he had a son, the number would be more than one person. But they didn't matter. Only one person did. It was how Baelfire saw him that would matter most of all. "The happiest moment of my life was when his mother placed him in my arms," he said, his voice sounding farther and farther away by the second, more and more strained "and the worst was when I broke our deal and let go."

"Baelfire," she sighed, trying to collect herself and swallow the lump in her throat. She was on the verge of tears, not only overwhelmed at the fact that he was divulging his precious thoughts to her, but also feeling low by the sadness and regret she heard in his voice, and the tears in his eyes that a small shaft of moonlight revealed in the dark. She didn't fully understand what he was talking about, deals and letting go, but she knew now wasn't the time to question it. He was already bearing more of himself than he ever had. The answers would come eventually, with time. But for now he didn't need her to question. He needed her for comfort and reassurance. "Baelfire will see that," she assured him.

At least she hoped he'd see it. She knew how it felt to be betrayed by his greed for power. She knew what it was like for him to go back on a deal he'd made, and she'd vowed never to make another one with him again because of it. It had hurt as an adult, as a child of only thirteen...she couldn't imagine the consequences of something like that. "You'll fix this," she said, trying to reassure herself just as much as him. She needed to believe that he would because she didn't know how he would make it through if he really did lose his son...again.

"Do you, uh," she hesitated, knowing that she might not like the answer to the question she was about to ask, knowing that she was about to encourage him to do something she'd never wanted him to do again. But there was only one way to get Baelfire back, and he needed to use it to find his son. She wanted him to know she supported that. She wanted him to know he could talk to her about it, instead of purposefully hiding it from her or pretending it wasn't happening behind her back. She didn't want any more secrets between them. "Do you think you can break it? This curse I mean."

He glanced down at her, just as amazed as she was at the words coming out of her mouth. Then he took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. He and Baelfire were not easy topics for him to discuss, but magic, now there was something he could go on and on about for days comfortably. "Perhaps, but I don't think that I have to," he answered mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" she asked with hesitation, her heart hammering in anticipation of his next words. In the past a veiled answer and a prod would have gotten her a change of subject. What would happen now? Would he answer her?

He looked her over, and for a moment she thought that maybe he hadn't changed as much as she'd hoped he had, but then he gave her a small smile. "Magic and spells, curses even, are really not that different from deals," he explained easily. "Magic isn't always perfect, there are always flaws, loopholes. Simply find the weakest point and then look for a way to exploit it, the way to get what you want while still upholding your end. That is how you get the better half of the deal."

She could have wept with joy and amazement. She hadn't been happy with that answer, with having the secrets to knowing how he'd crafted and manipulated all the people he made deals with in his lifetime. But it had been honest, and freely given. She couldn't hold her reaction to his answers against him. She'd have to manage that on her own for now. "And, uh, what, what's the weakness in this curse?"

He tapped the side of his temple with his index finger. "Memories," he informed her "I don't have to break the curse I just have to figure out how to get across the town line with my memories intact. It's a far easier and less time-consuming task, trust me."

She did. His brief story in the library weeks ago hadn't been much, but it had told her enough. She knew that it had taken him centuries to cast this curse and put the pieces in place for it to be broken, centuries to get everything just right. Anyone could see figuring a way around the town line would be easier. "You'll figure it out," she said, "you'll cross the town line, you'll find Baelfire…"

"And what? We'll all live happily ever after?" he questioned sarcastically, voicing the same concern she'd had only moments ago. Could a happy ending really be that easy for them? The thought was laughable!

"No," she concluded with sad certainty. "There'll probably be another curse or a Yaoguai standing in our way," he snorted at her poor excuse for a joke. "But you more than anyone should understand the value of taking things one step at a time. Figure out how to cross the town line and find your son, we'll worry about what comes next when we face it," he didn't fight her, although she knew that was what came easiest for him. He wouldn't have allowed the use of the "we" in her sentence when she'd left weeks ago. She hadn't even known Baelfire's name then, and he probably would have told her that it was his problem and he was working on it. But the fact that he was willing to let her be a part of it, was more important than anything he'd told her tonight. She felt like it had been a long night, a difficult day, and the weeks without him had been harsh before that. But he was changing, that much was obvious, and it suddenly made all their suffering worth it.

Seeing the heaviness in his lids, feeling the shock of his revelation wearing off as exhaustion crept back over her, she pulled herself up and gave him the smallest of kisses. She wouldn't thank him for the information. It didn't seem right to thank him for something he should have done weeks ago. "Rest, Rumple," she whispered instead, kissing his forehead and settling down next to him as she would have weeks ago. As much fun as spontaneous surprises could be there was something soothing about the predictable. After tonight they both needed that comfort. "Go to sleep," she whispered, feeling his grip on her tighten as it never had before. How could it have been? Before it was just her, before she felt like the treasure, now, with the knowledge carefully stored and locked inside of her, she felt like the chest: something to be carefully guarded and protected. She much preferred that.


	71. One Step Closer

"Belle," the name was whispered softly, too softly to truly rouse her from her dreams. In fact, she was already falling back to sleep when she heard "My darling Belle." It had been so long since she'd woken up to the sound of his voice that for a moment she thought she might actually have been dreaming. But then she felt his tight protective grasp around her back and waist and a gentle kiss on the top of her head. The events of yesterday and last night came racing back into the forefront of her mind. It wasn't a dream, and it certainly explained why they were in her bed, instead of his. "Belle," he whispered again against her hair.

She took a deep intake of breath and opened her eyes. The sun was up but only just barely and the room was still dark. It was early, even for him. When they had lived together at his house, he always rose first. And he had to wake her so that he could move out from under her and away from her grasp, since she always seemed to sleep curled against him and clutching him closely. In those days she would roll over and hover just on the edges of sleep while he walked around the room, showering and dressing. Then he always kissed the top of her head and wished her a good-bye for the day or at least until lunch if he planned to come home. The one exception of course being the morning she'd awoken to find him missing-and it still worried her that she could figure out how he'd wriggled away from her.

But that was then, and this was a much better memory to replace that one. This was normal, just not this early in the morning. She found herself automatically saying "What's wrong?" in a sleepy but frantic tone.

"I have to go," he whispered in an assuring voice. Her heart sank, they were back to the same old story. Part of her knew that this had to happen. They couldn't just stay here forever, but she wished that it didn't have to end so soon. After weeks of separation, self-induced she readily acknowledged, she felt like she hadn't gotten enough of him yet. She didn't want him to leave, didn't want to be away from him again so soon.

"Why?" she asked selfishly trying to burrow deeper against his chest. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel the reluctance in his skin, in his muscles, and she knew that he didn't want to leave either. So why did he have to go? If they were at his house they would easily have another couple of hours before this moment would arrive. Why should it come any earlier just because they were at her apartment?

He didn't answer her for a long time. It was only after she realized that her breathing was starting to even out and sleep was threatening to claim her again that she allowed herself to believe that he might have done as she requested and decided to stay after all. But then after a moment his hand brushed against her back and he gave a deep sigh that startled her fully awake again. "Belle," he muttered again, obviously assuming that she had gone back to sleep.

"What?" she whispered harshly against him. She didn't mean for it to sound so rude, but she found that she couldn't help herself. She just wasn't ready yet. Couldn't he understand that? After everything that had happened to them after all that they'd been through these last few weeks, this moment was finally one of perfection. Why would he want to give that up now?

"I have to go," he repeated regretfully.

"Why?" she muttered again sharply, already closing her eyes.

"I need to open the shop-"

"It's too early," she argued back.

"Belle," he gave a deep frustrated sigh, like he was unhappy that she was making a difficult decision worse. He clearly wasn't in the mood to argue with her, surprising after the blissful night they'd had. "I need to shower and change clothes before I open the shop," he pointed out in a voice that was suddenly more patient than it had been. For a moment she thought that this was the silliest excuse to interrupt their time in the world. Couldn't he just conjure whatever he needed, take a shower here? But then she realized what that asked of him. She didn't want him to use magic, not even in the smallest quantity. It proved to be too much of a temptation for him to attempt the bigger things. He needed it to find Bae, a fact that made the use tolerable, but he didn't need it for this. As much as she wanted him to stay, she didn't want him to have to resort to magic for something so simple.

Finally seeing his logic she nodded. Then with great reluctance pushed away, releasing him from her iron embrace. He moved out of the bed and she rolled back against the pillow and pulled the warm blankets up around her to replace the body heat that he took away from her. It just wasn't the same though.

She let her eyes fall shut as she listened to the sounds of him moving around the room. Strange how, after weeks of separation, they had fallen back into their old routine in only one night. She knew why this separation had to happen, and most of the time she was glad for it. It had given her a chance to grow, to make new friends, to find a purpose in life, and to create some memories in this land that didn't include him. But then there were moments like this morning. Moments when she seriously had to consider why that was such a bad thing.

She couldn't let herself sleep in these moments. Not when she could take in his presence right now. Not when she didn't know the next time they would get the opportunity to bask in it again. It was taking all of her strength not to reach out and grab him, not to call him back to her. She could make him stay, it would only take the right words said with the right tone and he would give into her. But she wanted him to want to be with her. She wanted him to want to stay, to choose her over everything else. She'd taken all the steps forward in this relationship, and had been the one to enforce the steps backward. She didn't want to be the only one that took these steps, she wanted him to do it too.

After only a few moments of gathering his belongings together, the little he had come with, she felt him predictably at the side of her bed. Their brief time was up. In just a moment she would feel him tuck the blankets tightly around her form and kiss her on her forehead. He would tell her that he loved her and then she would hear the sound of the door and he would be gone...again. The very thought of the door closing between them made her want to cry. Someday they would be together again completely, in the same house, in a room of their own. They weren't there yet, but they would be someday. She had to keep repeating this over and over to herself in her head, it gave her hope.

"Belle," he whispered gently like he was trying to wake her. He didn't know she stayed awake in these moments, so he laid his hand against her cheek and then brushed some of her hair out of her face gently so he wouldn't shock her. "Sweetheart," he whispered a little louder. She could have laid there listening to him say warm beautiful things to her all morning, but she opened her eyes at the word and stared up at him confused. This wasn't right. He never woke her up again. He was just supposed to leave. What was wrong now? "I have to ask you something," he stated finally. There was a nervous look in his eyes, a look that she didn't understand. Why would he be scared of her? What could possibly have him so nervous?

"What?" she asked, dragging her hand out from under the sheet and reaching for the hand that had been ghosting over her face.

He held the hand tightly in his own and looked down at their interlocking fingers for a moment. "I wondered," he muttered, avoiding her eyes "if you would like to have lunch with me," he choked out. "Perhaps a couple of hamburgers at Granny's. Friday, maybe?" He finally looked up to meet her eyes and she found herself beaming at his words. It was as if he had heard her broken tired thoughts and answered her prayers.

But then again, she wondered if maybe he'd had the same feelings too. If it wasn't just her imagination and he really was reluctant to leave her again. Did he miss this too? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Had he stopped waiting for her to act on those feelings and decided to act on them himself? It certainly seemed like it. It was nice not to have to be the one solely responsible for their relationship. First when he'd told her about his past in the library, then when he'd come to rescue her from the library, and when he had told her about Bae last night before they'd fallen asleep. Now he was asking her to lunch! He was making an effort. He was taking those steps toward her that she had needed so badly weeks ago. It was a dream come true! It had taken him a while, but if this was the result then moving out had the perfect effect on him, which had an amazing effect on her. There was no way that she could refuse an offer like that.

"I would love to," she muttered with a smile softened by sleep.

He beamed back at her, the nervous glare finally gone from his gaze. Had he really expected her to say no? "I'll pick you up at the library then, around noon?"

"I'm looking forward to it," she assured him. Then, just as she had expected earlier, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I love you," he muttered against her skin.

"And I love you," she responded.

He pulled the blankets up around her, and added the extra one that she kept at the foot of her bed, but hadn't needed last night, just for extra measure. "Go back to sleep," he whispered "I'll see you soon." Moments later she heard the click of the door and the snick of a key turning in its lock. She was surprised that it didn't make her feel sad or depressed as she thought it would. Instead her feeling of hope persisted. They had come one step closer to happily ever after and she was hopeful.


	72. Normal Interruptions

She smiled, when he came for her at noon, a beautiful sight to her eyes-and probably her eyes alone. She threw her arms around him happily and kissed him, but nothing to embarrassing for public. It hadn't been long since she had said good bye to him the morning after Ruby had left her tied up in the library, it had barely been a week, but it felt like an eternity. And once again standing within the firm embrace of his arms around her brought her a sense of calm that she always took for granted when they were together. She was glad that they were starting to see each other again, slowly of course, but it was necessary. No matter how many problems they had, no matter how angry or upset they got, there was no denying that they were in love. Being apart was unnatural, she'd believed that since they'd separated the first time, they needed to be together, to be close. It wasn't a want, it was a need, something that they felt deep down in their souls.

When they finally separated she'd locked up the library and they'd walked past the shop toward the diner. She liked walking arm in arm with him. It also gave her that sense of closeness that she craved in their separation. It reminded her that sometimes she was only half of a whole. There would be no denying it now, no hiding it from people in town, who she was associated with and where she had been after the curse broke. But she didn't care. She could live with the strange stares and fearful looks people gave them as they crossed the street so long as he was smiling at her like he was now, and muttering unimportant facts and other bits of knowledge at her. It made her give little sighs of happiness as they walked warmed together against the chill.

The diner was crowded, and she could tell the instant they walked in that it made him far more uncomfortable than the questionable stares made her. Fortunately she'd been here so much with Ruby that it was beginning to feel like second home, and between the familiar setting, the people she recognized now, and with him at her side, she felt perfectly fine. So she grabbed his hand and walked to the free booth that Granny had pointed out to them from across the room. They settled in, taking off their jackets, as Granny walked over and greeted her with a smile. Him she greeted less than enthusiastically. She watched him and offered a sweet smile of support. She knew it wasn't easy for him to be polite and kind, especially when it was so obvious that others were made upset by his presence, and treating him with short agitated sentences only made it harder. But she could see how hard he was trying for her. And she hoped that he could see how happy it made her.

He ordered them a couple of iced teas and hamburgers and Granny walked off. Some but not all of the tension dissipated, and she reached across the cool table taking the hand he offered her and giving it a squeeze. "Thank you" she muttered barely above a whisper so that no one but he would hear. They sat in silence for a few moments; she hadn't considered the fact that he wasn't going to talk about anything personal while they were surrounded by all these people. She wished that she had thought of that before, maybe suggested somewhere quieter to really give them some time alone. But fortunately he seemed to have a plan in mind. He began teaching her a game. Something called Rock, Paper, Scissors that, according to him, was a popular game in this land. He eagerly leaned forward and explained the rules to her, keeping her hand in his and forming the correct positions gently.

She couldn't help but smile as he did this. It wasn't the game, it was the normalcy of it. Here they sat, the pair of them, about to have a hamburger, playing a game, and just enjoying being in each other's company. It was so normal. She felt no different than when they had been living together. There was something that was so normal, so domestic, about curling up in the living room and talking about their day, of making lunch and dinner, sharing their nights together. And this produced that same feeling in her. She hoped he felt the same. Being here with him on a "date" as Ruby called it, she felt like she was the luckiest person in the world, even if the rest of the room was currently imagining just how she would meet her fate if the relationship ended badly.

Then again, her winning streak might have also had something to do with her happy feeling as well. Her two fingers against his flattened hand. She won. Then her fisted hand against the two fingers he made. Despite her winning with it last time, she'd won again. Her flat hand over his fisted one. He placed her hand over his fisted and muttered something about paper covering rock. "Did I win," she asked, eyes wide.

"You did," he answered with a smile and a twinkle in his eye reserved for her.

"Oh," despite the crowd, he was enjoying himself, she could tell.

"Again," he added almost surprised, drawing her attention back to the game.

"Third time," she gloated with raised eye brows and a smile.

"Third time in a row," he reminded her. She smiled looking down at her hand still comfortably covering his. Perfectly normal. Suddenly he glanced over her shoulder and sat back, separating them. Lunch. She smiled as Granny sat the plates of strange food before them. She'd eaten here dozens of times, but she'd been saving the hamburgers for this moment. Exploring it without him wouldn't have been right.

"They smell delicious Granny," she told the old woman with affection.

"They are delicious," she smiled back at her in a sweet caring voice. "Didn't take any dark magic either," the old woman muttered her voice now sounding cocky. Almost normal. She took her eyes off the plate long enough to glance at Rumpelstiltskin. He'd heard it, but he was opting to stare at something just above her head, silently refusing to strike back. All the affection that she had for Ruby's grandmother and she found herself wishing she would leave the two of them alone, leave him alone. He was trying, couldn't she see that? "Oh," Granny continued while she tried to distract herself by picking at her food. "And, uh, I charge extra for the pickles," she added sounding like she was taking revenge for something in the past. He simply nodded and gave a noise that he knew as she walked away. She was proud he hadn't taken the bait, that he had remained calm. He was trying to keep this lunch as normal as he could, and she appreciated that.

"I've a complicated relationship with her," he comment, making the excuse for them both and telling her there was another story to be told. "As I do with most people," he tried laughing it off, but she could tell how much the comments really irritated him. And for that she knew how difficult it was not to react to them.

She gave a snort of her own and leaned forward "Well, it, uh, it did take me a little time to get to know you…" and a trek across the woods, she thought. Seeing the smirk on his face she knew he was thinking it too. "They will," she reassured him. It would take time, but she would help him get there.

"You know," he suddenly exclaimed reaching for the ketchup bottle "you should try it with ketchup. Condiments are this world's most powerful magic." She took the bottle, giving a small smirk at his joke.

She was shaking the bottle as she heard a voice that made her blood turn to ice yell "Gold!" She panicked instantly and glanced over at him. His reaction was no better than hers, his face had fallen too, like he'd been doused with cold water. The only difference was that while her reaction was motivated by fear his was motivated anger. "We need to talk," the Evil Queen ordered coming over to their table. It was the closest that she'd come to her since she'd been freed and her heart seemed to stop. She was the last person that she wanted to be around.

"Do we?" he asked with an irritated voice that she barely heard. She tried to make herself as small as possible. She didn't want to, but her reaction to the Evil Queen was still fright and panic. Her hands trembled in her lap uncontrollably. She couldn't speak for him but nothing good ever followed her appearance in her life.

"Folks, uh, I think I might need to close early," Granny called behind her, only sending her heart racing even more than it already was. "Everybody out!" She tried to calm herself, to get control of her reactions. To fight the urge to run. She looked around her, out the window, at the people, anything to stop feeling like she was about to be imprisoned again. That especially kept happening around her.

"No, it's ok," The Queen corrected raising her voice at Granny's request. "We're civil," she assured her. Somehow she seriously doubted that.

"Yeah, for now," she glanced across the table at him. She tried to focus on him, on his eyes, hoping the sight would calm her. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking through her. Yet, somehow, she managed to find comfort in seeing him in front of her. She couldn't take her away, he wouldn't allow it. "Belle, you remember the woman who locked you up for twenty-eight years?" She heard his angry comment but couldn't respond to it. Fear kept her still. She knew there was no way this could end well. She didn't want to be here. If the Evil Queen wanted to talk to him then she could run back to the library and lock herself safely inside until he came to tell her it was safe.

Her mind wasn't working. She had to force herself to remember what to do, how to leave. Her jacket, she had to find her jacket and she could leave, maybe with at least some of her dignity. She managed a weak smile "I should probably, just,"

"No, no," Rumple insisted, "Stay where you are." She glanced up at the Evil Queen quickly and then back at him wishing that he would have just let her leave. "Whatever she has to say won't be a secret from you. Whatever she wants," he paused, sending a glance at the Evil Queen, she supposed to make sure she was paying attention, "she won't get." The words should have comforted her. He wasn't keeping secrets. That's what she had wanted all along. But it was hard to remember this with the Queen throwing her glances and standing so close to her.

Rumpelstiltskin, she kept thinking. Focus on him, not her. She was safe so long as he was close. "I'm actually coming about the one thing that might unite us."

"And what on earth can that be," she knew that voice. It was the voice that he used when he wasn't taking anything seriously, when he was hiding behind his mask. She felt like it had been ages since she'd last seen it, watching him there in his kitchen. She didn't know if it gave her comfort or panicked her now. She was as confused by the Queens words as he appeared to be. What could these two have in common? It couldn't be anything good.

The Queen leaned down closer to him and whispered "Cora," her voice breaking at the name. She watched his face. He was hiding his emotions, but she could see that something about the name startled him. Of course she doubted the Queen would see this but she could. She was surprised at her own reaction, and grateful. It gave her something new to feel. A new realization. Her mind was starting to work again and it felt protective of him. She wanted her gone, and away from both of them, but especially him. Whatever they had in common was in the past and very bad. She didn't want her to drag him into anything he would regret. A muscle twitched in his jaw nervously. "She's coming from our land," the Queen explained "I need your help to stop her."

"She was dead," his words made her stomach twist. She was right, this connection they shared was bad indeed. It had to be, discussion of dead bodies was rarely a good thing. "You told me you saw the body," he whispered. But the tone was what scared her, hurt and pain. What could have caused a response like that?

"Well, apparently you taught her well," The Queen whispered in an annoyed tone, but she was focusing on his reaction, it was startling. Something about the woman pained him. The possibility of her coming back scared him. He'd plotted in her death. And he had taught this woman magic?! Obviously this wasn't just a random person. Who was she? She glanced over at him, trying to see the answers written on his face, hoping that he could read her mind and would answer her questions. "She's not, she's on her way, and I don't think I need to remind you how most unpleasant that would be for both of us," she said desperation in her voice. She really wanted his help, maybe even needed it. But she'd chosen the wrong words. Blackmail and insults wouldn't work with him, and she watched as he registered the possible threat, assessed it, and dismissed it.

"Yeah, for you," he said smartly, finally looking at the Queen. "I can handle Cora," he said confidently.

The Queen was taken back by his answer but recovered quickly with a smirk "That's not how she tells her story."

"I won in the end" he said, his words more punctuated, so that she heard every word clearly. They were beginning to fight. It was making her nervous.

"Maybe, but there's a big difference this time," she said in a voice that was clearly meant to threaten. "This time," she glanced back over at her with a sneer that told her that she knew far more than she did. It caused her panic to set in again "you have someone you care about." As soon as those eyes left her face she glanced over at Rumple, expecting to be comforted. But the look he sported now told her that there was something to worry about. There was something to her threat after all. "This time, you have a weakness" she whispered harshly. She hated being used over him like that. But she knew by the look on his face that the Queen had spoken the truth. Was that why she wanted her all those years ago? And what was so bad about this woman that they were talking about? What had happened between them in the past that her own life was now in danger?

"I, I'm sorry," she stuttered managing to find her voice in front of the Queen. "Who, who is this woman?" she asked him nervously.

"Someone you'll never meet." He smiled at her. It wasn't comforting. It was terrifying. She knew that tone only too well. The Queen had him; nobody threatened her and lived to tell the tale, he was going to do something about this. She just hoped that it was ultimately going to be good and not spoil all the progress that they had made. The fact that he wouldn't tell her something from his past made her worry, but she held out hope that he just didn't want to talk about it because of the people around, something that he hadn't forgotten. She had, the diner had gotten so quiet during the confrontation that she forgot they were in public. Certainly he wouldn't give her any information in the middle of a crowded room of eavesdroppers. They'd have time later. She hoped. "So you say she'd coming," he leaned forward, getting down to business "Where is she now?"

"With them," she didn't need to know who the 'them' was. It was all the entire town had been talking about for weeks, and the amount of spite she had said the word with made it obvious who she was talking about. Snow White and her daughter Emma. He glanced over at her, looking at their untouched food and back at her.

"Belle I've got to take care of this," he confirmed. She swallowed, trying to ignore the Queen watching their private interactions. She didn't want to share them with anyone, least of all the Evil Queen. He seemed to understand that, after a simple excuse and a quick kiss on her cheek the two of them left together. The diner went back to normal the moment the door closed, only now there were people casting her curious glances instead of the disgusted or hateful ones they usually did. And their topic of discussion now revolved around the scene they had all just witnessed. She didn't care.

Even with the Evil Queen gone she couldn't relax. Ruby took the seat across from her and the two of them talked about the encounter, but she was only half there as she watched Ruby eat the hamburger he was supposed to be sharing with her. She was in love with the most powerful man in the town, probably even the world, who had a past darker than her nurses ebony hair, and more secrets than the clerics that cut their own tongues out to prevent them from being stolen even under pain of death. Normalcy wasn't something that would ever be normal for them. Normalcy was a fleeting gift.


	73. Strengths and Weaknesses

When she heard the knock on the apartment door that evening, her stomach twisted at the noise. Her first thoughts were ones of terror. Had something happened to him? Had the Evil Queen come back for her? Had Cora? So much seemed to have happened since their attempted lunch but she hadn't left the library, hadn't left her apartment. She'd been waiting, somehow she knew that when everything was over he would be back to tell her that it was safe again. Or someone else would come for her, and she'd know that she would never feel safe again. So when the knock came, she timidly looked through the little hole in her door, and her breath caught when she saw that it was him.

Her excited fingers fumbled with the lock on her door, but she finally snapped the door open and saw him standing there before her. She paused for a moment, looking him over, before giving a sigh of relief that he seemed to be ok. And like a moth to the flame she threw her arms around him, happy to see him whole and in one piece. She loved being with him, loved their nights together, and loved their shared kisses, but when her arms were wrapped around him and they were holding each other like this, nothing could ever compare to it.

After a few moments, he whispered her name and she pulled away from his shoulder, placing her forehead against her own. "Are you ok?" she asked, her voice only a whisper. She had no idea what had happened, why Regina had needed him to help her, but she knew that it wouldn't have been for anything good. And if it hadn't been for her, hadn't been for the threat the Evil Queen had made against her, then he wouldn't have gone in the first place. If something had happened to him, physically or emotionally, she would have been beyond sadness.

He nodded slightly, continuing to gaze into her eyes. That look was the one that killed her. The look that made her want to never look away and never leave his embrace. He might not ever say the words, but look said them for him: he needed her. "But more importantly," he muttered, "so are you." A small trace of a smile lined his mouth. Wrong as she felt the comment was, she couldn't help but smile. Everything was ok. She had him back and nothing could be wrong if that was the case.

"Come on," she whispered, leading him into the small apartment and over to the couch. He seemed shell-shocked, his actions were stiff and rigid, and he was hard to read. There was a great amount of relief in his face, most of it for her, but there beneath was the guilt. It didn't frighten her, it didn't even surprise her. She knew the lengths that he would go to protect her, as he had once promised. But she did wonder how far he had to go to this time. "I'll, uh, I'll make some tea." She said, nervously running her hand over her skirt. But as she stood up to get the tea, she found his grip on her hand tightening. It wasn't like the gentle squeezes he'd given her in the past, simply to let her know that he loved her, this time he really was refusing to let go.

"Stay," he said. His voice barely more than a whisper, but it was insistent. "Please," he added, trying to soften the command. This was as desperate as he got. And with an ungraceful plop she settled herself down on the sofa next to him, and waited for him to tell her whatever it was that he needed to say. Because it was obvious that he needed to say something to her.

"Rumple," she held his hand securely between her own, resting the mound of fingers and palms on her knee. "What happened?" she asked, urging him to tell her what had happened after he had left Granny's. She needed to know, he was starting to make her nervous. He looked at her, he had squeezed himself back into the corner of the couch, and had a few fingers pressed to his temple like he had a headache, or like the thoughts in his head were torturing him. He had a pained look on his face, and she had the sudden feeling that she wasn't going to like what he was going to tell her. But she knew he would tell her, it wasn't like it had been. He really had been trying, to tell her everything that she asked him. He just didn't want to, because he knew she wouldn't like what had happened.

Finally, her pleading looks broke him down and with a painful sigh, he began to tell her the tale. Everything that he and Regina had done since the moment that he left her. From David, to the return of the two women, and what had happened at the well…including what he'd intended to happen and what the Queen and her son, Henry, had stopped him from doing. It made her stomach clench uncomfortably, but it didn't make her want to run from him. He had told her, and that had to mean something. From the look of guilt on his face she could tell that he really had told her the entire story…except for one important detail. She swallowed and tightened her grip on his hand, reminding him that she was still there, and would be no matter what he said. "And Cora?" she asked, "Who is she?"

He sighed, looking at her from under tired lids. "One day, I'm going to tell you that," her heart dropped, but she was surprised that it didn't break as she would have expected it to. He wasn't saying no, he was just tired, she could see that. He would tell her eventually, if Cora was truly important. "Just not today," he clarified. After the day that he had, she could understand why he wanted some peace. It was why he needed her. She was his peace. And yet, as the Queen had pointed out, she was also his weakness.

She glanced at their hands, still entangled upon her knee, so joined she thought it would be heartbreaking to separate them. She wasn't angry, she felt guilty, felt like it was her fault that he had been forced to do what he'd done. After all, the Queen had used her against him. And the thought that she could be used like that, like a pawn in a chess game to sway him any way someone wanted, it made her sick and endlessly sad. "I'm sorry," she blurted out with a swallow, "that she used you like that. That she used me against you like that."

At her words he sat up a little straighter. "She didn't," he insisted "one way or another I would have come to the same conclusion. I would have done it all over again to keep you safe. Whether she realized it first or I did, I would have done the same thing."

Somehow his words didn't make her feel better, they made her feel worse. Like she was somehow the center of all the trouble they had and would have. All the progress he'd made and it could all be undone with nothing more than the mention of her name coupled with a threat. She didn't know that would be the problem. She had never wanted to be his weakness…she'd hoped that she would be the exact opposite. And the look on his face, made her feel like she didn't deserve it. Like she didn't deserve all of these wonderful moments that they could have if it meant causing him this much pain and suffering. She didn't want him to resort to his old ways to protect her. But he couldn't let anything happen to her, because he would revert for sure if he didn't have her. And he knew that just as much as she did.

"I don't want to cause you problems," she admitted to him. "I didn't know that I made you weak," her voice cracked on the last word. His eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth at the words, looking shocked as ever. "I never wanted to be your weakness," her throat tightened as she replayed the Queens words over in her head.

But suddenly his hand seemed to clench around hers in an unbreakable grip. "You are," he muttered staring at her, looking like he had just swallowed a very large pill, like he'd just now realized how true those words were. "You are my weakness," he said slowly, the words coming easier to him this time. Then he sat up and moved forward touching his one free hand against her cheek. She leaned into his touch, trying to gain a little comfort from it, trying not to cry. She didn't like the idea of being his weakness, of being the one thing that people could use to abuse and control him. "But you are also my greatest strength." She opened her eyes and looked at him, the truth of what he had just said was written all over his face, and the words calmed her. But of course after trying so hard to keep her tears in check, she couldn't any more. Sometimes it felt like she spent half her life crying because of things he said. "Never doubt that, my beautiful Belle."

As tears began to slide down her cheeks she pulled her hand free from his grasp and wrapped both of her arms around his waist. He cocooned her against him. Stealing a quick kiss from her lips and then pressing one to her forehead and guiding them back against her small couch, holding her head against his chest. Finally she felt him really and truly relax in her arms. They didn't say anything; they didn't do anything, just basked in the comfortable feeling of holding each other. She didn't have all the answers that she had wanted, all the answers that she had needed, but she found that she didn't need them right now. And she wouldn't trade this moment for anything in this world, theirs, or even the next.

His strength. Maybe that was how it always was. Maybe a person's strength could often be found in their weakness. She, for one, thought it was true for her. He made her better, he made her the person that she wanted to be, he completed her. And when something between them wasn't right, when she couldn't see him or have him in her life, it had the power to break her. He was her greatest strength, and her most profound weakness.


	74. Returning the Favor

She woke up the next morning with a deep sigh, not sure what had woken her so suddenly. She swallowed and as conciousness claimed her she became more and more aware of the strange position that she was in, and the foreign aches and pains she felt in her back, neck, and knees. She could feel something moving up and down her back and shoulder as her head rested against something soft. When she opened her eyes it took her a moment to remember where she was and how she had gotten here. She was curled up on the couch in her apartment, still in the clothes that she had worn yesterday, and the fabric against her cheek belonged to one of his suits and that meant that it was his hand trailing up and down her back. He appeared to be sitting against the corner of her couch and she was resting against him. That had been her last memory from yesterday.

Being so grateful that he had told her everything that had happened with Regina and Snow and her daughter, so honored that he had told her she was his greatest strength, that she had wrapped herself around him just wanting to feel him close to her for a while. They must have fallen asleep. She took another deep breath and glanced up at him, checking to see if he was awake or if he was rubbing her back unconsciously. He met her gaze, offering her a gentle smile, as the hand at her back stopped its soothing motion. "Morning," she muttered, aware of the sunlight streaming into the apartment.

"Good morning," he confirmed in a voice that suggested he'd been up for a while longer than she had. But she wasn't surprised by that. He always woke much earlier than she had and opened the shop at first light while she remained asleep until her body naturally woke her up. She didn't want to think about how long she had kept him trapped there.

"You could have woken me," she suggested. Obviously sleeping like this on the couch wasn't the best way for the body to rest, and suddenly the aches and pains made a lot more sense to her. But if it made her muscles this tense she couldn't imagine how bad his must be.

"I wasn't entirely uncomfortable," he admitted, his hand moving some of the hair out of her face "or unhappy." She missed waking up next to him every morning, the tender way he always made sure she was warm under the covers and kissed her forehead before telling her that he loved her and he'd see her later. But waking up to find him just as happy to be the pillow that she rested upon was just as wonderful. She loved being reminded of how kind he really could be, how soft his heart really was.

She managed to move her joints and make her body move enough to reach up and place a kiss upon his mouth before pushing herself off of him and letting her stiff knees unfold from beneath her to touch the floor. This must be what bread felt like when it was stale. "Don't you have to go to the shop?" she asked, amazed that he hadn't got up to see to his business the second that she freed him.

"It can wait," the last time he'd stayed the night, after Ruby had chained her to the library, he'd woken and left quickly just as always. No. She was only partially right, he had left quickly but he'd also sat at the side of her bed, and asked her timidly to lunch at Granny's, before all of this had started. "I have a spare suit in the shop," he added "but if I could use your shower…"

"Of course," she muttered squeezing the hand on his knee. She smiled, what did he expect? That she would make him go home when he really didn't have to? That he could share her bed and her couch, but not put a spare suit in her closet and never use her shower? "I'll make you some breakfast." They enjoyed one final silent glance before both springing into motion. He moved off the couch grabbing his cane and disappearing into the small bathroom. She padded softly into the kitchen and took out the box of Granny's muffin mix that Ruby had gotten her as an apology for trapping her. But the way that night had worked out, when he'd come to her aid, she really should have been the one to thank Ruby.

As he showered she made the blueberry muffins and couldn't help but smile to herself. It was nice going slow, but sometimes she missed what they had before she'd left. They were doing well though, she felt like they had both grown from that moment that they had separated, learned to appreciate each other more. He told her things now, still hesitantly, still slowly, but she could tell that he was being honest with her and that meant more than anything to her in the world. He was trying, trying to be good as well as honest, and it told her that there really was hope for them. In fact, now that she thought about it, he'd been the one actively taking the steps toward her, and she couldn't remember that ever happening in their relationship.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he was only half dressed, his jacket, vest, and tie slung over his arm, shoes in hand as he made his way over to her. It didn't take a genius to see he was torn. On the one hand he wanted to remain here, and spend more time with her, but on the other hand he was also a creature of habit and wanted to get to the shop, see what had happened now that Emma and Snow had returned. It was in his nature to be inquisitive and know what was going on in the world around him. She understood.

"Belle," she glanced up at him just in time to see him pull something black out of the pocket of his suit jacket. "I nearly forgot," he held the object out for her. A cell phone. She'd seen him carrying one of his own but she'd never really considered needing one before. The only people she might need to get in touch with she could easily walk to or use the public pay phones. "I want you to have this." She took it from his hand and looked it over, still confused as to why he was giving it to her.

"I don't understand."

"It's just a precaution," he explained "in case Regina decides to come after you again, or if you should ever need anything. You can always get in touch with me." She smiled as she looked it over. So this is what it felt like to be pursued, to be wanted and needed. It felt wonderful. She wished there was some way to let him know just how much she appreciated it. Then again, maybe there was. He'd taken a step, multiple steps, to be with her again. Why couldn't she take one as well?

"Thank you," she muttered, setting the phone down on the counter and turning to the matter at hand. She handed over a muffin to him, fresh out of the toaster oven and wrapped it in a napkin. "Rumple, um," she took a deep breath, asking herself if she was really ready to start this again. She thought about their last few encounters, how she'd felt, how she'd missed him. They couldn't accomplish anything being apart, they had to work on it together. She was ready, and she wanted him to know that it was time too. "We didn't get to finish our lunch the other day," she pointed out trying to push the words nervously out of her words. "Maybe I could come over to the shop sometime?" she suggested, finally meeting his eyes, "we could have lunch, maybe a picnic if it's warm?"

She watched as his hurried expression turned to one of unexpected gratefulness. Maybe even a hint of accomplishment, like he had just achieved something he'd been working on for a long time. And he had. Someone as powerful as him didn't have to work for much, and she was proud of him for the efforts that he had put into himself for her. He smiled so deeply the corners of his gentle eyes crinkled. She knew; her words and their meaning were not lost on him. He was just as good as she was at picking up on subtly and the meaning behind the words others used. After a moment he finally collected himself, reeling in his excitement, "you are welcome in my shop, and my life, anytime you wish," he said with gentle certainty, words carefully chosen, letting her know that he wanted to share more than a shop, more than a physical space with her. He already shared his heart, now he just needed to open it up further, and she had no doubt that he would, he'd already told her the hardest part about his son. Everything else was easy compared to that.

"Next week, then?" she asked, giving enough of a time frame to keep a safe distance between them, but not so much that it would be too much time apart.

"I look forward to that day," he said with a nod. There was a moment of hesitation between them, perfect stillness as they both decided what to do next, and that was one of the things about this separation that killed her the most. It was so simple before she'd left, now every motion seemed over thought and cautious. Then he stepped forward and placed a hand against her cheek and kissed her, once, twice, three times before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers. She couldn't remember when, but at some point her arms had wrapped around his neck and they stood there for a long moment, both thinking of a million different things: regrets, desires, and thankfulness. The feelings of completeness they felt when they were together, and how much they missed it when they were apart. Even if it was only for a short time. Was this what true love felt like for everyone? She couldn't imagine going her entire life without ever having this feeling. It was a miracle they'd found each other, and even more so that they'd kept each other. "I have to go," he whispered suddenly, a hint of sadness in his voice. He really was conflicted.

"I know," she whispered letting her grip on him loosen. "I'll see you soon," she smiled.

"Soon," he confirmed with a hopeful smile of his own. They were definitely heading in the right direction.


	75. A Safe Place

She had been looking forward to this all morning. All week really. Ever since he had taken her to Granny's for a hamburger and then left with Regina. In all honesty, the hamburger had been good, but it would have been better if she had gotten to finish the meal with him, instead of with Ruby. And if he had the time to actually explain what was so bad about this Cora person. She had wanted to know why she had him so scared. She wanted to know why Cora would see her as a threat and come after her, when she didn't even know her. And yet she still didn't have her answers. But it had been ok. She could see that it was something that needed to be taken care of quickly, and in the aftermath she hadn't had the heart to press the issue. But now that the terror seemed to be passed, she had every intention of asking him today, over lunch.

She had wanted to have a picnic, but it was just too cold. However, that didn't mean she couldn't make sandwiches and enjoy his company, which would be the best part really. And, it would be nicer to be somewhere quiet any way. It wasn't that she minded Granny's but it had been busy and noisy when they had gone, and she really just wanted to talk to him. She knew there was no chance of him answering any questions about himself while he was out in such a public place for fear of eavesdroppers. If private meetings were the only way they could talk freely, then so be it.

She let herself into his shop, warmed more by his smile than the heat itself, and set the picnic basket on the counter between them. He took a peek into the basket she had brought while she took her jacket and gloves off. "Ah well that looks delicious." She smirked at the compliment, glancing down into the basket. It was just sandwiches, easy, but it was enough. "Thank you very much Belle." She reached in to set the food out only to hear the bell on the door ring, instantly causing her to regret that she'd forgotten to lock the door behind her and maybe pull the shade to give them more privacy.

Sheriff Emma Swan and her parents, Snow White, and David, marched in like they were on a mission. She glanced between the two parties not sure how to respond to the intrusion. "Ah!" he moved from his spot behind the counter, taking control of the situation, like he knew how to do so well. Whatever it was she hoped that it could wait. She didn't want to push them out the door, but she really wanted to be left alone with him. As she set the sandwiches down she hoped he would politely tell them that they were busy and to come back later. "Nothing warms the heart more than a family reunited. You have your mothers chin Ms. Swan."

"We know that you killed him," Emma interrupted suddenly.

"And your fathers tact."

She looked over at him, shocked by the words, feeling like the bottom had just fallen out of her world. What had he neglected to tell her? "Someone's dead?" she asked nervously, hoping it wasn't one of the few people they knew. She wasn't a fool; she knew that if it was the chances that he had done something went up significantly. But she was also aware that he hadn't asked her to leave, or removed her from the conversation, like he so regularly did when he had done something. That was a hopeful thought.

"Dr. Hopper" Emma answered, looking at her with suspicion. She didn't like that look. It was the one nearly everyone in town looked at her with. The one that screamed that if he was with her then she might very well be hiding something too. That she was just as evil and guilty as he was. No, she definitely hated that feeling.

"Why on earth would you think I had anything to do with that?" relief flooded back into her body with the words. They were true. She could tell. She knew him well enough to know when he danced around the truth, and he wasn't doing it now, which meant that he really didn't have anything to do with it.

"Because all the evidence points to Regina!"

She shook her head at Emma's words, upset. "And she's not possibly capable of doing something so vile!" she pointed out taking her place at his side. The Queen looked guilty and they were going to blame Rumpelstiltskin! There was no logic there. He'd been trying so hard was she the only one in this town that could see that!

"It's a frame job" Emma informed her with a harsh tone, looking over at her like she was still unsure what to make of her presence and her allegiance.

"It wouldn't be the first time you used someone to try to hurt her" Snow chimed in. She didn't like this; all she wanted was for them to fit into this world like normal people. But the expressions on their face, their stances, all said the same thing. They were incapable of trusting him. She didn't know if their prejudices weren't well founded, maybe they had given him one too many chances, maybe it was something else, there were hundreds of stories she had to learn from his past, but they were just that: they were the past. But what she couldn't understand was why they couldn't accept him as he was now? Or at least just treat him like a normal person and not send three royals to gang up on him over a hunch. He had told them that he didn't have anything to do with it and he'd meant it. She just wanted them to leave the two of them in peace with their lunch.

"Nice to see your memory is still intact dearie" he responded politely, just a sly smirk that told her there was more to that accusation than he was letting on "but this time I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you: It wasn't me." If she didn't believe it before then the truth in his voice would have proved it to her now.

"Why should we believe you?" David asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because I can prove it," he claimed. "Ask the witness."

"No one was there" Emma spat back at him

"Well that's not strictly true, now is it," she didn't know how he knew who was there and who wasn't, but it wasn't new, he always knew everything! But how he knew didn't matter to her, just so long as it got them to believe just as she did: he was innocent.

"Pongo!" Emma burst out, before glancing back at her parents. "Pongo was there!"

"Pongo's a dog, Emma" Snow White reminded gently, in the girls own defense, it did sound silly.

"And he has eyes doesn't he?" Rumple interrupted "let's put them to good use. Bring him to me." The family looked around at each other skeptically before Emma nodded in compliance and David left the shop, in a hurry. "Belle, I'm sorry" he apologized glancing at the meal left on the countertop. She shook her head and gave him a smile, still just so happy that he was truly innocent, and that he was helping to catch the person responsible, no deal made. She touched his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"I'll stay," she muttered. Another smile broke over his face, before Emma cleared her throat and he glanced up at their visitors. Emma waited with her arms crossed in front of her chest and her eye brows raised.

"In the back," he said as he grabbed her hand and led the way to the back of the small shop, where the four of them waited in awkward silence until David came back in with a Dalmatian dog on a leash. "Hey boy, good boy," he cooed the spotted dog, crouching down to actually pet the animal. A gentle smile washed over his face as he patted the dog.

His reaction surprised her. She would never have guessed that he liked animals, never have guessed he would have this kind of response to the creature. It was, dare she even think the thought, adorable. Would wonders never cease with this man in her life? "I ah…" she tried to hide her amusement but found she couldn't "didn't know you were such a dog person."

"Well, a long time ago, in another life, I got to know a sheep dog or two," he commented while still continuing to bond with the beast. Yet another story to discover one day.

"That's fascinating," Emma said in a flat unimpressed tone. Whether or not Rumple cared she certainly resented the voice enough for the both of them. She had no idea just how protective of him she was until they stood before judgmental untrusting eyes. And Emma was certainly both, she just didn't know why she reacted this way around him, around them, but she didn't like it. It made her feel like she had to be on guard, for both of their sakes. "But unless you can speak dog, how is Pongo gonna tell us anything?"

"With magic of course, it won't allow us to communication but it will allow us to extract his memories."

"Extract?" David said worriedly

"You don't have to worry he won't feel a thing," he reassured them gently, still admiring the dog that had found a soft spot in his heart.

"Why should we trust you? You could just as easily use magic to fool us." Emma pointed out.

"Because I'm not going to be the one using magic. You are." The room seemed to explode. The family argued at first, wondering if it was really best for her to use magic, but Emma was determined to find out who had killed the doctor. The final decision made, she watched as he took a dream catcher and saw it light up as he dragged it down the back of the dog. He then handed the catcher to Emma and walked her through the process, even encouraged her that she could when she doubted, and she was amazed to see it actually worked. Images appeared in it. Archie, the doctor, answering his door, letting the Evil Queen into the room, and then suddenly having the life choked out of him with a magical strength and no remorse whatsoever on her murderers face. Snow White let out a noise and threw herself into the arms of David, clearly upset by the startling images of her friend's death.

She was proud of herself for being subtle and turning away from the sickening sight. Watching people die wasn't something she ever thought she would experience again. She gathered her thoughts trying not to cry in front of the royal family, only to find Rumple's hand suddenly enveloping her own, without making it obvious to everyone else. A subtle, but reassuring, gesture. This was definitely not the way she had seen their afternoon going. "And now I must ask you to leave," he stated, now that his innocence had been proven and the culprit identified. He really didn't need to kick them out; they were well on their way after they had seen the memories. After Pongo was gathered up, they hurried out of the shop quickly, presumably to find the Evil Queen.

It was only after he watched them go and heard the tinkling of the bell that he turned to her, running a hand up her arm. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes searching hers, wondering if she was ok. She didn't want to overdo it, after all she had barely known the doctor, but there was something about watching him die by the hands of the woman who had held her captive and threatened her own life that set tears in her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight, taking all the comfort that he had to offer.

In the end it wasn't so much the death that had frightened her, but fear itself. She couldn't know what the doctor had done to anger The Evil Queen, if anything, but it meant for sure that she was still ready and willing to take lives. What would she do if she ever invaded her apartment late at night? Or stepped into her precious library during the day? She was beginning to see why he had given her that phone.

Somehow she became aware that he was speaking to her. Telling her she would be ok, picking up on her fears in the way that only he could. Pointing out that so far she hadn't come after her, that if she wanted to keep her life she wouldn't dare harm her again. No matter what she would be safe. She loosened her death grip and nodded against him, but was still unwilling to put space between them. She was safe. Right here, right now, she was safe. He was safety.

And he was innocent. He'd helped to prove that he was innocent. She swallowed her grief down on that thought alone, letting it be as much a comfort to her as he was. "I knew you hadn't done it" she admitted to him with a choked voice. Her words made him smile and he gathered her back up into his arms and this time it was him who hugged her tightly.

She didn't know what it was like to live a life where no one ever trusted you, and, even worse, only ever though bad things about you. But he did. He needed a supporter. He needed someone to believe that he could be good. Maybe more than someone who believed it, he needed someone to know it. She knew it; she could feel it in the way that he was holding her now like his life depended on it. She would be safe, because he needed her to be safe. Because his life depended on her life.


	76. A Place to Hide

She couldn't have stayed away if she wanted to. Not anymore. Not knowing that the Evil Queen was out there, killing again, willing to murder someone as innocent as Archie Hopper. It put her on edge and she found herself more and more walking over to his shop in the middle of the day and sitting in the back room as he worked. She felt safe when she was with him, and had no fear of the Queen coming after her. He didn't mind her presence. In fact he seemed to appreciate it, seemed to be calmer whenever she was around. He moved around her like she was no trouble at all, like she fit into this shop and his life just as perfectly as any of the other objects that dwelled here.

And it didn't seem to just be her that was feeling this way. He had started showing up in her library on the days that she didn't arrive at his shop, even started keeping a couple of suits in the closet of her apartment. But she couldn't tell if he was doing it for the same reasons. Was he staying close because he was afraid that she would be next on the Queen's list? Was he still worried about the woman, named Cora? Or was it something much less threatening? Could it really just be the returning strength of their bond that drew him near? She didn't know. She didn't care. She was just happy he was around again.

This visit to his shop though, this was not random. They'd made plans for this days ago. He hadn't told her much; only that he would need to see her tonight, that there was something that they needed to do under cover of darkness. And so as soon as the sun had fallen, she'd bundled herself up and walked over to his shop. He'd told her not to bring anything. They would return to her library soon enough. In fact they'd made plans to return to her apartment for the night after they'd completed their task. She was looking forward to that, but she was even more curious about what they had to do, why he wanted her here.

She stepped into the shop, ignoring the "closed" sign in front of the pulled shade and didn't even bother looking around the room for him. Instead she locked the front door, kept open only in anticipation of her arrival and made her way into the back room. He was there, unsurprised by her prompt arrival. As always she walked around to him and planted a kiss on his lips, which he always returned. "Thank you for coming," he murmured as she pulled away from him.

"Of course," she muttered. How could she not come? If he asked her to do something, if he wanted to take her somewhere, then it could only be a step in the right direction. She wouldn't pass that up for anything. Although, as she looked down at the objects in his hands she furrowed her brows in confusion, not understanding. A black scarf and paper with strange marks on it. "What, uh," she met his eyes again, "What are we doing?" she asked curiously.

He smiled gently and looked at her with excitement. "I'm getting closer everyday to my Baelfire," he explained to her. She smiled, he'd been using magic again, she knew that but it hadn't been for anything but Baelfire. He'd been working constantly on finding a way to get across the town line so he could find the boy. He'd learned quickly that he couldn't break the curse that held them in town, but he'd been working to counteract the effects, something that would allow him to keep his memories. So that he could leave and still remember Baelfire…and her. "It could be any day now, and things in town being what they are at the moment, there is something that I must do before I go." He said mysteriously, although she knew that he thought he made perfect sense. He reached out and grabbed the hand she'd set on her hip. "I didn't want it to be a secret from you. I wanted you to know…everything," he said after a strained pause. It was like even saying the words went against everything he believed in. She still didn't know what they were going to do, but she liked it already.

"Come with me," he muttered, leading her into the main room. She stood on the other side of the counter, watching him as he reached for a picture. Instead of removing it, she was shocked to find it swung forward, revealing something with a black door behind it. "What is that?" she asked looking at the out of place object.

"This is my safe. It's made of strong steel and it is impenetrable. Unless…" he glanced back at her "you have a key," he added. He reached across for her hand, which she gave, and looked into her eyes, not with passion, as he so often did, but with serious desperation. Suddenly she felt something cold slid into her palm, the temperature made her jump and she looked down. A key now sat there. He was giving her the key to his safe! "You have the only copy," he informed her sternly. "Keep it safe," she was astounded at his words, at his actions. Part of her couldn't believe he was giving her the key, even as she stared at it. He really had meant that he was going to tell her everything, and having access to something so private and protected as the safe made her happy, but also utterly confused. Why was he giving this to her? What values did the box before her hold? And what could have prompted him to give this secret away? Regina? Archie? And surely he hadn't brought her over here just to learn about safes and locks. What were they really going to do? "Can you do that?" he asked finally with a look that left no room for jokes or light heartedness.

"Ye-yes" she stuttered, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by everything he'd told her, she had to shake herself to come back to reality. How long would it take for this shock to wear off? "Yes. But, but why…"

He held up his hand to silence her and turned back to the safe, but only after throwing a final look to all the windows and doors, making sure that no one could see into the shop. He turned his own small key and the door popped open. He pulled a lever to open the door completely and she caught a glimpse of brown fabric and a flash of metal. He removed the metal object and closed the door, hiding it once more behind the picture. Finally he faced her and she could see the object in his hand clearly. It was a jagged dagger, with his name imprinted on one side. He laid the black scarf out on the table before him and placed the blade regally upon it. "The Dark Ones Dagger," he muttered reverently staring down at it. She didn't know what that meant but she did know that whatever it was, whatever it meant, it wasn't good.

"This is the dagger that gave me my power," he explained answering the question she hadn't even gotten to ask. Had she not been mesmerized by this object, she would have been properly impressed with how honest he was being. As it was, she could do nothing but focus on the dagger.

"This is the only way the Dark One can be killed, the only way to acquire the powers." A memory surfaced in her mind, a memory of a man in her cell, asking her about a weapon that could kill the Dark One. She tried not to show her shock as the connection suddenly made sense to her. The man had been right. There was a weapon that could destroy him, and she was looking right at it.

"Is there any way to reverse it?" She asked, "The powers I mean."

He shook his head. "Not one that doesn't end in death," she glanced up at him, almost hoping that he was lying to her, but instead she could see the honesty of that written on his face. "Although we've seen true loves kiss is effective, but apparently not in this realm," he added obviously. Kiss after kiss after kiss and he still had the ability to use magic, although, she suspected there had to be a certain willingness to give up the curse as he had managed to undo true loves kiss even in their realm. But, still, she hadn't expected that answer. She hadn't known that the only way he would ever be apart from his magic, was if she lost him truly. No, that couldn't happen! As much as she was disgusted by the monster that dwelled deep within him, she would happily deal with it time and time again so that she could keep him by her side. If this was the object that would keep him with her, then it was truly the most important object in the room.

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked looking up at him. "Why now?"

He would have smiled if the situation wasn't so serious. She could tell that. But it was serious, and instead the only response that he gave was a slight softening to his eyes. "There are very few people who know about this dagger. And what they know is mostly myth and legend. But with the threat of Cora I began to worry that it might not be safe," he told her. "It needs a new hiding place," he concluded. "Somewhere no one can find it, where no one can use it against me."

"So why not the safe?" she questioned, looking at the painting that concealed the object he'd just described as impenetrable.

He shook his head, "it's too obvious, too much of a target."

Immediately she knew that she should have thought of that already. She agreed, and was trying to think of a place that it would be safe when she looked up at him. But there was a familiar glint in his eye that she knew well. None of her suggestions were necessary; he already knew what he was going to do with it. "So where are you going to hide it?"

"Oh not just me!" he piqued, falling back into his high masked voice for a moment, a subtle reminder of exactly who and what they were protecting with this dagger. "We," he corrected, his voice dropping down again to the one she knew and loved, "we are going to hide it." Without warning he wrapped the dagger in the scarf, and slid it into a pocket within his jacket. He walked around the counter and checked the store to be sure that it was locked up tight for the night, and then the two of them left the shop, locked the door, and she walked arm in arm with him in the direction of the library.

He looked normal, he looked calm and stress free, but she alone could see the way he scanned the streets ahead of them as they walked, the way his eyes lingered on everyone who crossed their path with suspicion, and the way his muscles tensed expecting an attack on him as he momentarily carried his one mortal weakness from one safe spot to the other.

After a while she realized that they weren't just heading in the direction of the library, they were going to the library! He pulled the spare key, that he had never asked permission to make but she couldn't object to, out of his pocket and unlocked the building for them. She didn't dare say anything while they were on the streets, but the moment the door closed, the moment that he had locked it again, she stared at him wide eyed. "Here!" she hissed? This didn't seem like a safe plan at all. She didn't know much about hiding places but if he didn't have the dagger, wouldn't she be the next obvious choice for anyone searching for it?!

"Yes and no," he answered her, already moving around her to the inner sanctum of one of the reading rooms. He hadn't even bothered to turn the lights on, not wanting anyone to sense them here. She watched as he took the piece of paper that she'd seen him with in the shop when she'd first arrived out of his pocket. He hid it, placing it behind the books on a shelf then looked at the call numbers on the spines, and as predictably as ever, he withdrew from his pocket a pen and piece of paper. He scribbled something onto the paper then returned to her side. "Keep this with you at all times!" he stressed, holding the paper between them. His voice had risen as if he was angry. But she wasn't fooled. She hadn't done anything to upset him. He was just scared for her. He knew that what he was going to ask her to do was something dangerous and it made him uncomfortable, it was his most precious secret, and sharing it with anyone, even her was only adding to that fear.

But she was determined, she wouldn't let him down. Without hesitation she plucked the paper from his fingers and his hand wrapped around her shoulder. She was reminded of that intense look Jefferson had given her when he'd freed her what seemed like a lifetime ago. As if she didn't realize before this moment, she knew that whatever he was going to tell her was of utmost importance. "If anyone should come to you, if anyone demands the location of the dagger, give them that paper and tell them that it is all you know about it." He raised his eye brows at her expecting a response of some kind. She nodded, letting him know she understood what he was asking of her, but not why. "It'll lead them here, which will lead them into the forest. You come to me. If I'm not here then as soon as they're gone, as soon as it's safe, get the dagger and go somewhere safe: Ruby, Mary Margaret, anywhere that you can be hidden and protected. Do you understand?"

She did. She understood perfectly, he was laying a false trail, it was smart. This way she would know someone was after the dagger and be able to defend it, defend him, properly. It gave her a fighting chance. "Yes, Rumpelstiltskin, I understand," she stated clearly, leaving no doubt that she had any reserves about what exactly he was asking her to do. She tried not to think of it as protecting the power of the Dark One, just as protecting his life. It was as precious as her own.

"Belle, if it's not safe, if it is a choice between you and the dagger, promise me-"

"I won't promise what you're going to ask me to," she interrupted, knowing exactly that he would ask her to abandon the dagger and protect herself. "And we'll only waste time arguing," she pointed out. And a never-ending pointless argument it would be. He'd choose her, he would want her to be safe, but she would choose him. If it ever came down to it, she would get the dagger or die trying to get it. They both knew this was true.

He nodded, and let out a stressful disconcerting sigh. He knew what her words meant and he wasn't happy about it. But the look on his face told her that he'd known that was how she would respond since the moment that he'd said the words, maybe even before he'd said them. But he'd still said it, because it was important in another way. He was choosing her over magic, over his power. She knew he could change.

Putting their wordless conversation aside, he reached for her hand and led her out of the reading room. They weren't done yet. They'd merely laid a false trail, the dagger had yet to be truly hidden. He hobbled over to the strange doors that she hadn't been able to open by the circulation desk. She kept forgetting to ask him about them, and they never seemed that important, honestly. But he dropped her hand as he explained to her how to open them. An elevator, he called it, something that would take her up and down without using stairs. But she was never to use it to go down below the library. He made that very clear. It was unrelated and as he said it was a "story for another time."

The doors rattled open to reveal a shaky looking cage that she really wasn't convinced would hold their weight. But nevertheless he walked into it and beckoned her forward. With a deep breath she stepped inside. It rocked slightly and it made her heart jump but he paid it no mind. She threaded her arm through his again, and listened as he told her how to close the doors from the inside. Fortunately there was a light within the shaft to see by, and after yet another explanation on how to make it move the elevator rattled upward.

She swallowed hard and clutched his arm tighter as they went. Hiding a dagger people would easily kill her to get to was easy, but being in an elevator was what truly terrified her. It was comical, or it would have been if she wasn't worrying about the cable pulling them up snapping and falling to her death. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the rattling stopped and he opened the doors.

They were in the clock tower, the one that she could see from nearly everywhere in town. Once again he didn't reach for any lights, merely let it stay dark. It was a good thing there was a full moon tonight, then again maybe that was why he'd waited for tonight to do it, so that he had natural light to work by. He led them both up a small set of stairs to the clock face and removed a foggy glass panel exposing the inner hands of the clock. He removed the dagger from its place within his jacket, pulled it out of the scarf it had been wrapped in, and fixed it onto the back of the minute hand. It was perfectly concealed by the shape and the blurred image when the panel was replaced. In fact, if she hadn't known that it was there, she never would have suspected anything out of the ordinary. It was a clever and well chosen hiding place. But then again she was silly to suspect he would come up with anything less.

He stepped away and looked at the back of the clock face. It was done then. It had reached its new destination, the place that would conceal it, and keep him safe and alive. The weight of its importance finally felt like it was pressing down on her shoulders. She would guard it, she'd keep it safe, she'd sleep with it under her pillow if that's what he thought was necessary. She just hoped that she could meet his expectations. "Are you sure it'll be safe here?"

He continued to stare at the clock face, watching the shadowy image of the minute hand as it ticked along in its circle, as if nothing had changed. She suddenly found her hand warmed by his again. "With you?" he questioned, that serious look on his face unchanging. "It's in the safest place in the world."


	77. Her Unique Power

The dagger was hidden away, the paper that would lead anyone away from it was safely tucked into her bag, they had come back to her apartment as planned, eaten, and gone to bed with barely another word to each other. They found they didn't need words, only each other. She was at home, safe, and perfectly content lying in his arms. But late as it was, as tired as he'd left her, she still couldn't sleep. A problem he didn't appear to be having, his hand, the one that stroked up and down her bare spine, had stopped its continuous motion. Only every now and then would it start again for a minute or two, when consciousness threatened to interrupt his sleep, then slack again as he fell back into oblivion. She should have joined him there. She wished that her breathing could be as even as his was under her cheek, as peaceful as his heart beating into her ear, but, every time she came close, her eyes wandered up to the ceiling, looking in the direction that she now knew the dagger lay protected.

He'd told her so much, explained so much, even if it was in his own way. Secretive as he was for a man like Rumpelstiltskin even the few sentences of carefully chosen words was a novel compared to what he normally offered. And yet he hadn't told her why he'd had to move it. All he'd said was that he had doubted its safety, but that seemed silly. He said few people in the world knew about the dagger, it was only after the threat of having Cora arrive that he'd worried about it. It seemed to have taken him eons to disclose the information to her. What had this woman been to him that she would know? Had he told her or had she figured it out on her own using those myths and legends he'd mentioned? And why, when the Queen had mentioned her name only days ago, had he gone to stop the woman from coming to Storybrooke? Why had his eyes flooded with anger and hurt?

The questions filled her mind whether or not she wanted them to. She should be content with all she'd found out today, with all they'd accomplished, she should just go to sleep. But she just couldn't get the name off of her mind. Her eyes traveled back up to her ceiling. She'd asked him once before about the woman, just after he'd come back from preventing her return. He hadn't changed the subject, just told her that he would tell her someday. She hated to do it now, but she wouldn't sleep, wouldn't stop worrying unless she could hear the words from him.

"Rumple?" she muttered gently against his chest. He was a light sleeper, and instantly awake the moment she said his name, but she'd said it gently enough that he didn't panic for once. She should feel happy, having the dagger near her gave him peace. She wished she could say the same.

"What?" he whispered sleepily, his hand automatically beginning its up and down motion on her back again.

"I can't sleep," she informed him.

He sighed, and she felt him lift his head and place a kiss gently against the top of her own. "Close your eyes," he encouraged, "it'll come eventually."

She rolled her eyes, "just close your eyes" seemed to be his answer for everything. But he didn't understand. She'd tried that and it didn't work, the one thing that would let her sleep still remained locked in the endless depths of his mind. "Rumple?" he made an indifferent noise, letting her know he was still awake but ready to go back to sleep. She should drop it, she should just close her eyes like he suggested and hope sleep would come. But she just couldn't. "Who's Cora?" she asked. The words fell like a heavy weight between the two of them. His hand instantly stopped the motion at her back, and she felt his heart sped up, and his breath ceased beneath her. She'd caught him completely off guard, not hard to do in sleep, but still surprising for someone like him. "Rumple?" she prompted after he remained silent.

"Belle," he gave a sigh that almost sounded irritated. "You really don't need to know that right now," he whispered insistently, harshly even. She pulled away from him and looked down at him laying there. His eyes were wide, that flicker of fear and pain that she'd seen when the Queen announced the woman's intended arrival was back on his face. She just wanted to know what caused that look.

"You told me you wanted me to know everything," she reminded him "you told me you would tell me-"

"Yes, but not now," he cut her off suddenly. "Why do you need to know now?"

"She knew about the dagger Rumple, that's why you moved it!" she pointed out, before she just wanted to know, but now, his reluctance to tell her, made her need the information. "Tell me," she urged "who's Cora?"

He looked at her for a few moments, she thought that she might have seen tears gathering in his eyes briefly, but then he pushed himself up a couple of inches, wincing as the pain in his knee flared. "Cora," he began, rubbing his face nervously over his face as he fought to find the words "is Regina's mother." She watched him carefully, but couldn't hide her surprise when she realized that he was telling the truth. Of all the things she'd expected to hear about the woman, that hadn't been one of them. It certainly explained why the Queen had been worried about her coming but not why he had panicked. Not why he'd had to defeat her. And not why he had worried about the dagger.

"And how do you know her?" she asked, prompting him to tell her more. He stared up at the ceiling with a look like he was being tortured by her questions. He wanted to answer her, to tell her the truth, but he was worried about what she would think about it, that much was clear. "Rumple," she prompted, reaching for his hand and held it between her own as she propped herself up on her elbows, ready to hear his explanation, "You can tell me anything."

He sighed again, deeply, with more than a lifetime of regret. She could see that he doubted her words on this particular issue, and it only made her more desperate for the answer. Finally met her gaze again complying with her request, although not happily. "Cora was the daughter of a miller when I met her," he explained. "She'd gotten herself into trouble, telling the king that she could spin straw into gold, which she couldn't-"

"Which you could," she blurted out.

"Yeah," he nodded, "She'd been given until morning to spin a room of straw into gold, and she was desperate so I made a deal with her. I would spin the gold she required and she would give me her first born child."

She furrowed her brow at the remark, "A child?"

"I needed Regina to cast the curse. I knew the first child she bore would be the one to do it," he explained away simply, his tone telling her, it wasn't an important part of the story. "But…" he took a deep breath, reminiscing about something in his head. "Cora was smart, she didn't want me to spin the gold she wanted me to teach her to spin the gold. She wanted me to teach her magic. She was very…independent. I agreed to her condition and when the king saw the gold that she had spun the next morning he gave her his son to marry."

The story should have ended there, just like all of his deals did. He had what he wanted and she had what she wanted. But the reaction he had to the woman's name told her that it wasn't as simple as that. "And?" she prodded, unfooled by the lull in his tale.

He looked at her, regret so thick on his face he seemed to be breathing it in as well as out. "She was intoxicating," he admitted with shame, and emotion that she'd never once seen him bear "and clever, and greedy," suddenly it all fell into place for her, and she understood perfectly how exactly he knew Cora. "A fair match for a monster like me," he concluded.

The "match" to which he was referring was not one for battle, or intelligence, or wits. It was worse, because it was all of the above. "You, uh," she took a deep breath and swallowed, the words feeling like lead against her tongue. She'd once asked him if he'd ever loved anyone since he lost his son. It had never dawned on her that he hadn't answered. It was a long time ago, back before they'd shared true loves kiss, back before she knew about his life, back before she'd ever heard the name Cora. Now that there was a name, she found that she couldn't bring herself to ask him if he'd loved her. In the end she couldn't even bring herself to say the word. "You, you cared for her?" she clarified.

"Not like this," she spat back at her, a small pulse of anger, at her veiled suggestion. Like the very idea of comparing whatever he felt for Cora to what he felt with her was disgusting. The hand that she held in her own suddenly tightened, like he was afraid she might pull it away. She didn't, but she couldn't help but notice that he hadn't denied her words either. "Never like this," he repeated as the grip tightened again. And suddenly she realized the meaning behind his words earlier._ "You really don't need to know that right now,"_ it wasn't the story, it was the setting. He didn't want to tell her about this while they had been wrapped up in each other as they had been, like they still were now. She wished he'd explained it better, but she didn't dare move now, didn't dare take the conversation to a less intimate setting for fear he'd stop telling her everything.

Here or there, it didn't matter anymore. Now that he'd begun, she couldn't let him stop. She had to know more, she wanted to know more, she had made her bed and now she had to lay in it. But she couldn't help that gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was this how he had felt when he questioned her about Gaston? She suddenly regretted brushing it off as casually as she did and being irritated that it had bothered him. Now that the tables were turned, she understood what a terrible feeling it was. She'd never been jealous before. Not of Bae or his mother, but she found herself suddenly feeling jealous of Cora and what he might have shared with her.

"So," she took a deep breath, wishing she had just closed her eyes and gone back to sleep. "What happened?"

"She tricked me," he said through gritted teeth. "She used my own emotions against me," he looked at her, examining her face, judging whether or not it was safe to continue or not, but they were far past the point of no return by now. Whatever came out of his lips she was just going to have to live with. It was her own fault. "She convinced me that she wasn't satisfied with being a trophy, on the arm of the Prince forever, and would rather have me. I amended our previous agreement that she'd give me not her first born child but our first born child," she had to clench her teeth together to keep her jaw from dropping at the revelation.

"Cared" hadn't even begun to cover what he'd felt for her then. Everything that they had shared together and they'd never even breached the subject of children beyond the one that he already had. It wasn't a question for her, in her opinion they were nowhere close to being ready to have a child together. But the fact that he'd considered it with another woman, that he'd had a discussion that serious, that intimate, with her made that fire of jealousy flare inside her stomach. She hated it so much that she knew she would never even mention Gaston again in his presence.

After a few moments of silence, when he determined that she wasn't going to get up and storm away, or yell, or cry, he went on. "Obviously that never happened," his voice trailed off and he turned his head away from her, staring at the ceiling again.

Her eyes widened, when she realized that he had stopped for good. He couldn't just end there! What happened next?! Why was it her that he was lying here with and not…she couldn't even finish the thought. But she needed him to finish this tale. "Why?" she urged once more.

"All she wanted was for her daughter to someday be Queen, all she wanted was power, and she surely wouldn't have gotten that with me. She manipulated me to change the deal so that I would never receive the child for helping her because the child in question would never exist. She went on to become a bitter old woman incapable of feeling anything for anyone including Regina" he explained it away so quickly that she knew it hadn't been as simple as he'd made it out to be. And she knew the words he'd chosen had more meaning to him than the obvious.

She suddenly thought back to his outburst in the castle, just after she'd kissed him the first time, when he wouldn't believe that she had loved him. _"Because no one, no one, can ever, ever, love me" _he'd roared at her. It hadn't meant nothing. They had been a scar, a reaction left over from someone who had hurt him deeply long before she had ever known him. Sometimes it was no wonder that he found it so hard to trust her. It wasn't anything that she had done, it was something that everyone else had done: his family, Baelfire, the Queen, and yes, even Cora.

He'd won in the end.

That was what he'd told the Queen when she had tried to trick him into working with her. She'd simply reminded him that it wasn't how Cora told the tale. She could understand that now, how each could walk away from such an encounter thinking they were triumphant. Cora had gotten to keep her daughter, and Regina had indeed gone on to be Queen. She'd gone on to do terrible things with her title but still, Regina was the Queen. "And you eventually got the Queen to cast the curse to this land," she concluded aloud.

Finally he met her eyes again and gave her a small guilty nod. She knew there was more to the story. After all, in their previous conversation there was mention of Cora's dead body. But after this, she wasn't sure she was ready to hear that bit of the story, not yet any way. And she would certainly never ask a question in this setting ever again, it was on the list right next to never make a deal with the dealmaker again. She'd learned her lesson there. But her original curiosity remained, and she still needed to hear the answer now. "And she knew, about the dagger, about," she sighed regretting that she had to ask this question when she wasn't sure she wanted to know or not "about Baelfire?"

He shook his head. "No," he answered "No, you're the only one who knows that," he assured her.

She released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. The answer relaxed her, made her feel better about their conversation. He hadn't mentioned whether or not he told her about the dagger, and frankly she didn't care. It was Bae that she knew about. It was a piece of information, a unique trait, one that belonged only to her. Well, that, and maybe one other. "You kissed her?" she asked, the words tasting strange on her tongue.

He gave her a look, like he couldn't believe what she was asking him to answer. She responded silently, with a raise of her eye brows. She needed this answer, it was the only thing that might be able to undo the mess they'd both made of their quiet night. Or break it, if she didn't get the answer she expected. But somehow she knew what he would say, and she wanted him to see it just as much as she wanted him to say it.

Seeing her insistence, he gave another deep regretful sigh and nodded. "Yes," he answered, detest for both the question and the answer clear in his voice.

"While you were cursed," she clarified. "You kissed her while you were cursed?"

"Multiple times," he added, his frustration growing.

"And you remained cursed," she questioned timidly. "After you kissed her you were still cursed?"

He was silent for a while before she saw a small smirk on his lips. He gave a small snort as he realized the significance of her questioning and his irritation was forgotten. "Yes," he muttered, honestly and without regret. "Yes, I remained cursed each and every time."

She smiled with relief. It was an inappropriate response for the hurt that he'd just described to her, but suddenly that fire of jealousy was extinguished and happiness flooded back into her. "Good," she muttered, then leaned up and kissed him swiftly before she curled herself back up against him with her head on his chest. "Sounds like you won in the end," she commented with a smile as his arm automatically fell into place at her back again.

She couldn't be upset with him, couldn't be angry. He had a past. She knew that. He'd had hundreds of years to interact with others before she came along. It would have been unrealistic to expect that there was no one in the world that knew a few of his secrets. But she knew the most precious one, she knew the reason why he'd been motivated to make deal after deal for centuries, the origins of the curse. She alone knew about Baelfire. She alone knew the location of the dagger hidden in the clock tower right now. And she alone had the magic to turn the power hungry monster into the loving man holding her now.

Stories would come and go. Time would pass. People might rise out of the ashes seeking his power. And more secrets would be uncovered as long as they lived. But the power of true loves kiss, was one that would never change. It was uniquely her own. And she would never let it go for as long as they both lived. And she intended for that to be an eternity.


	78. Unwelcome

The good thing about the shop being so small was that it left very few places for him to hide. When she walked in this evening, and didn't see him out front, she didn't need to question where he was. She already knew, and walked right back to the curtain that separated the private space from the public without a word. She didn't need it, she was welcome anytime, and she liked that. She was the one that he didn't mind being in his territory. The only one he didn't mind sharing it with, who never needed permission, and the one that he never asked to leave.

In fact, over the past couple of weeks she'd been back here so many times she thought she knew it nearly as well as her library. She would sit on the small cot watching him work, sometimes falling asleep peacefully to the sound of his wheel, making odd comments, or listening to him do business from behind his curtain. Whether they talked or not, it never ceased to amaze her just how comforting it was just being with him, to hear his voice, to know where he was and what he was doing. This private little room, no longer felt like it was his, it felt like theirs, and she liked the closeness to him that she felt just by being in it. It regenerated her very soul. And she knew that was what she needed to get her through the next twenty-four hours.

"Hi," she said pulling back the curtain. He was staring at something on the table in front of him with a magnifying glass. But the second he heard her voice he glanced up and a wide smile spread over his face.

"Hey," he breathed, the surprise evident in his voice "What are you doing here?" he asked as she hurried over to him and gave him a quick peck of a kiss.

"Looking for you," she answered.

His face changed from one of comfort to one of fear and he held onto her arms tightly, searching her face for whatever he was afraid that she wasn't telling him. She shook her head, feeling her face grow red with embarrassment and guilt. She hadn't meant to set him in a panic. "No," she said with a shake of her head wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling his forehead down to touch her own. "No, no, no, everything is fine," she whispered. Well, it wasn't, but it wasn't exactly terrible for them either. She felt him sigh, with relief, and she couldn't decide if it was tragic or hysterical that panic was an emotion they both went to when they brought each other surprise news. It spoke well to the kind of life that they lived.

She took a deep breath and pulled away to look at him, trying to focus on why she had come in the first place. "Tomorrow morning is the doctor's funeral and Ruby invited me to a gathering tonight," she explained with an appropriate heavy sigh. She didn't know the doctor personally, but Ruby and many of the others that she had met in the town did. Ruby had asked her to go, both to the funeral tomorrow morning and the dinner tonight, and she had agreed immediately. It was not a happy occasion, but she was happy enough to be included into the group of mourning friends despite the circumstances. "It seems like half the town is going," she added. "I was on my way to Granny's and I just thought I would see if you were going as well? Maybe we could go together?" she put a questioning inflection in her voice. A hopeful feeling rose in her stomach for a moment as she raised her eye brows at him.

But that feeling faded as she saw the look in his eyes. It was one of guilty disappointment, like he knew he was letting her down in some way. She wasn't disappointed, not really. If she was honest with herself, she really hadn't expected him to say yes. It was why she hadn't asked him earlier. He wasn't a social man and she had just assumed that he wouldn't be going. But since she had to pass the shop to get to Granny's anyway, and since she was a little early, it seemed silly not to stop in and ask him. And even crazier not to get the little bit of comfort she could soak up in the few minutes she had alone with him before going to the funeral.

Predictably he pulled away from her embrace. "I don't think I have many friends there, Belle," he muttered taking his cane in his hand and walking away from her. It was a typical Rumpelstiltskin response for when he was uncomfortable with a topic, but it came about so quickly that she hadn't been ready for it.

Suddenly the sadness that she felt had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was about to attend a memorial dinner and a funeral. It had been a trial, getting the people in this town to see her as friendly instead of dangerous. Most people, in fact, still preferred to shoot her angry or disgusted glances whenever they saw her, assuming that she was just as bad as he was, just as evil and conniving. But she had been fairly well received by Ruby and the friends that she had. It helped her cause. She appreciated them for accepting her, and for not berating her when she had started to see him again more and more frequently. They remained friendly and never asked her for information concerning him. It worked easier if they just pretended like he wasn't part of her life at all. She doubted that would remain so if she started showing up places with him at her side, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. Despite what they wished to pretend, he was part of her life, a very important part of her life. If they could like her without him then they'd have to learn that they could like her with him. And if they didn't see that, then they weren't the kind of friends she wanted.

She followed him out into the main room in his shop, and watched as he strode over to the door and flipped the sign on the front from "open" to "closed", then shut the shade. It gave them the privacy they both preferred, away from the prying eyes of any body walking by that might look in the windows of the shop. He turned back to her, his face still looking guilty and disappointed. She gave him a soft smile, hoping he would understand that she wasn't upset with him and he couldn't disappoint her. But that didn't mean she couldn't push a little. "They can't get to know you if you don't give them the chance," she informed him when he had come to stand before her again.

"That statement assumes that they want to get to know me," he countered.

"How do you know they don't?" she asked coyly, trying to make it a joke but knowing that it didn't come out that way.

He seemed to know, and turned away from her, admiring those two terrified looking dolls he kept. "I've done terrible things in my life, Belle," he reminded her regretfully.

That was true, she couldn't deny it. It was why she'd had such trouble with the citizens of Storybrooke in the first place. She hadn't taken to telling the few people she met, but hadn't heard of her, that she was involved with the notorious man simply because she quickly realized that whether she said Mr. Gold or Rumpelstiltskin it didn't seem to make a difference. They all looked at her with fear first, then, after a moment, anger seemed to flare behind their gaze, and finally amazement or fear again as they looked at her. Those that were amazed asked her questions. Sometimes the questions were harmless and innocent, other times they were embarrassing and intrusive. No matter what they asked, she refused to answer and left quietly, always offended. Those that looked at her with fear, either took off running or began shouting at her. Usually they begged her never to come near them again, or not to mention even the smallest slight that they might have committed against her to him. A few of the brave ones managed to get out a yell of furious anger, like they were projecting everything they felt for him onto her and asked how she could ever love a man that had done all those terrible things.

The short answer was that she wasn't sure. She didn't know if it was fate, and their love had been written down long before either one of them had been born. Had she had a choice in loving him or had it just been as inevitable as the effects of a spell being cast. She might not ever know what it was that had drawn them together, what dictated who got to experience true love while others just love. But she did know why she loved him. The reason was standing before her now. She could see what the others couldn't. To them he was veiled, hidden, out of sight. To her, he had become an open book. He hadn't always been, but it was the fact that he was now that she loved the most. The fact that she had pried as hard as she could to pull back the covers of that book so that she could get to the words inside and in the end he had allowed them to open automatically without her touch at all. He was her greatest mystery. But his heart was true. Of course, it was only true to her, but a little spark was all it took to fan a flame.

"All magic comes with a price," he muttered. Did he really think that his isolation, the reason he was unwelcome in these groups of friends, was the consequence of the magic he used? She hoped not. It wasn't the magic that had done those "terrible things" but then again, with all she had learned about Bae and why he truly did need his magic, sometimes she wasn't sure if there was really any fault committed. The people had agreed to the deals they made, they had gotten what they wanted in the end and so had he. If a deal backfired, if it turned out that what they really wanted wasn't what they needed, then as far as she was concerned he wasn't the only one to blame. Love could produce great things, but greatness had two sides. One of light and dark. Clearly the town people didn't see that.

She walked over and turned him away from the ugly dolls with a touch on the arm. "That's all in your past," she muttered. "This curse is a new life, a new chance. We've nothing else to do while we wait for the curse to be broken," she urged.

"Nothing to do but try and break it," he responded with a small smile. She couldn't argue with him. She knew that he'd been using magic to try and break the curse or rather figure out a way to counteract the effects of it, and cross the town line, memories intact. She couldn't stop him. Although she knew the great temptation it was for him to use magic in ways he shouldn't she couldn't deny him the opportunity to possibly find his son. And besides, she needed to practice trust. Everything he'd done in his cursed state, since his memories had been reawakened, had been for his son. She had to believe that it would continue to be his driving force, and that she would be his reason to use his magic only for good.

He'd told her only a few days ago that he was close to figuring it out, and she could see the attraction now, to spend his days inside working on the curse rather than to go to a dinner where he would be an unwelcome sight. She gave him another gentle smile and reached out to place her arms around his neck. "I understand," she said holding him tightly.

A chime rang out behind them and she looked at the clock, her heart pounding as she realized the time. Today was not the day to be late. There were people who needed support, and new friends that needed a shoulder to cry on. "I want to hear about how far you're getting on the curse-" she began but he held a hand up between them, giving the hand he still held in his own a gentle squeeze.

"But, you should go," he finished without a hint of regret in his voice. "We both have places to be tonight and there will be time to talk when this mess has ended," he assured her. And though he was smiling she could still see the disappointment in his eyes. He wanted her to stay with him where it was safest, but he had succeeded in fighting that particularly possessive urge. He hadn't used magic to continue to imprison her. Instead he'd given her a life outside of his own world that she craved so badly. Even though he knew it was a life he might not always be welcome in.

"Lunch?" she questioned "tomorrow after the funeral?" He nodded eagerly and she smiled at the treat that would await her after a morning that would surely be emotional. In the morning she would be a support to all who needed her and tomorrow she would see him again and he would be the one to hold her up. But for now, she was on her own. "We can talk then," she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck again and squeezing him tight against her. No matter what the world outside of these walls thought, no matter what happened no matter what changed, here, in each other's arms, this was the one place that they were always welcome.


	79. Understanding the Misunderstood

She could feel the weight of all the emotions pressing down on her the moment she walked into Granny's. The last time this group of people had all been gathered here together like this had been weeks ago, when the dwarves had discovered the dust. Then, the room had been filled with excitement, an energy that she couldn't match since she hadn't seen Rumpelstiltskin in weeks. The feelings in this room were the exact opposite tonight. Heads were hung low, it was so quiet she could hear a dog barking outside in the distance, and, instead of hope, a feeling of defeat seemed to run through the room. And, yet again, she couldn't be part of it, only this time it was because she was on stable ground with her true love. In fact, it had been the brief interlude they'd had that was going to get her through these next twenty-four hours, and the hope of a shared meal tomorrow afternoon that would keep this despair from sinking into her bones.

However, sadness wasn't the only thing she felt pressing down on her. The moment she walked through the door, as suspected, she was suddenly aware at how the people sitting in the booths, the ones that weren't normally part of this select group of friends, that had only turned out to honor the doctor, suddenly stared at her. She expected it, it was normal, but she still hated the way their eyes roamed over her. She took an awkward swallow and nodded at a few of them who were looking at her like she was carrying around a vile disease and might infect them. Immediately they averted their eyes. But it was no matter, she wasn't going to let them bring her down, nothing could these days, not where he was concerned.

She barely had time to think about the encounter, before Ruby ran forward and wrapped her arms around her. "Thank you for coming," she whispered in her ear.

"I wouldn't miss it," she whispered offering a small sympathetic smile. Now that she was looking at her, she could see the pain hidden underneath Ruby's expression. She was smiling at her, and her eyes were bright, but she knew that it was only her method of coping with tragedy. The death of her friend was not a little thing. She was glad she'd made the choice to come. She might not have had an attachment to Archie, but she did to Ruby, to Grumpy, and to this group that had integrated her into them while she'd been separated from Rumpelstiltskin. She would never be able to pay them back for their generosity, but this was a good way to try.

She and Ruby took a seat at the bar, next to Mary Margaret and the rest of her family, husband, daughter, and grandson. Granny gave her a mug of beer, just like everyone else had, but no one was drinking. The room was quiet, still. Everyone sat, paired off, or in small groups, but no one said anything. Occasionally the sound of a mug being aimlessly slid around a table, or a sniffle as someone broke down and turned into their neighbor as they cried intruded on the silence, but never a word. She watched as Granny stood hunched over the bar, looking down at her hands as she waited for someone to ask for a replacement that no one would ever need.

She wasn't sure how long they sat there like that, in a mournful state of shock, so fragile that a single word would surely shatter them all. But after a while, once the sun had gone down, and a light wind had picked up so that it could easily be heard rattling the windows of the quiet space, one of the couples at a booth moved first. A husband and wife, she assumed, that she had never met before, slid out of their seats. "To Archie!" the man said raising his mug, still full, he raised it to his lips and downed the entire thing in only a few brief seconds, then he and his wife, took hands and left out the door. A few minutes later they were followed by another group of young men, this time who raised their glasses and said "To Jiminy, the voice of reason," before draining their mugs and leaving too. She was astounded. For five minutes there was a steady stream of people that copied this ritual. They raised their glass to the silent crowd and offered their respects to a man she was beginning to wish she'd known better: "a true friend," one said, "a conscious guide," another muttered with tears, "a wise man", "a good person", and finally when it was just the little group of people she'd come to know she saw Grumpy stand and smirk "the loudest, friendliest, bug I've ever met!" The statement elicited a laugh out of the group, some loud, some only soft snorts.

The dwarves, moving as one, just as always, finished their drinks and set the mugs on the bar before heading out, Grumpy alone muttering that they'd see them tomorrow morning, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to name the place they would all have to meet. Mother Superior commented that she should probably get back herself, and after a short discussion, it was decided that Marco would take her, since it was on the way home, and tomorrow morning David would pick her up. "To the man that wished the loudest of them all," she said before departing.

And then it was just them. The Charming family, Ruby, Granny, and her all sat at their places, Henry's eyes dropping slightly over his mug of hot coco that had gone cold. "We should probably all get going," David concluded rubbing Mary Margaret's back encouragingly "tomorrow is going to be long day and we could all use the rest." Suddenly he glanced over at her as they all picked themselves up off the bar stools. He looked like he had just remembered she was still there. "You shouldn't walk home alone," he insisted, "we'll drive you."

"Oh, no!" she insisted a little too loudly, she didn't want to put them out, and it really was a very short walk, surely it would be fine. "I'll be alright it's just a couple of blocks."

"David's right," Mary Margaret chimed in, "it's dark and with the current situation in town…"

"So," she nodded, suddenly catching on to what they were talking about, what they were afraid of. "You, uh, you haven't caught her then, the Queen, ehm, Regina," she had to strain to think of the woman's name. After everything she'd been through it was hard for her to think of her as anything but the Evil Queen.

David sighed, "No, but we're hoping she'll turn up somewhere soon and we can…"

"David!" Emma came to stand beside her father, a strange thought considering they looked about the same age. The look and the tone that she gave him was warning, like he had just openly divulged a private secret and she was telling him to stop. He responded with a questioning and confused look. "She doesn't need to know that."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret gave a frustrated sigh, one that showed how truly tired she was. "The whole town knows that she hasn't been caught yet."

"Well, apparently they don't," she threw her a suspicious glance, meaning to acknowledge that she hadn't heard Regina hadn't been caught yet. "And there are some people better off not knowing that kind of information," she added quietly, in a harsh whisper.

She swallowed as she processed the words that she'd just heard. It was better off she not know the Evil Queen was still free? It was better if she didn't know that the same woman who held her captive for decades was still on the loose? Why would that be? Did she think that she would go off on some fools mission to find her and extract her revenge…No.

And yes. That was exactly what she thought would happen, but it wasn't her that she was worried would enact the plan. It was Rumpelstiltskin.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, trying to remind herself to be pleasant, trying to remind herself that this was a solemn occasion, even if it was just them in the diner now. But she couldn't help it, the words had caught her off guard. It wasn't as if she didn't know everyone already thought that way about her, this was just the first time someone had ever voiced it in front of her. She wasn't prepared for it to come from Emma, although she had long sensed that the woman didn't know what to think of her, she had never guessed the problem would come out this way. Then again, when she considered the circumstances, grief could make a person do unusual things. She should know."But maybe you've forgotten that I am not Rumpelstiltskin," she attempted to correct gently "I'm not going to interfere with your search, I don't want anything to do with that woman again."

"No," Emma corrected "but I also haven't forgotten what happened the last time he tried to 'take care' of Regina." Neither had she. Neither had the town, frankly, but that had been what seemed like a lifetime ago. He'd changed so much since then, he'd worked so hard, and had even helped to identify the Evil Queen as Archie's killer. Was she the only one that saw this? "The last thing we need is for your boyfriend to go off on his own and try to take care of Regina again."

She swallowed, keeping her temper in check, and shook her head. "He won't do that," she insisted, proud of herself for managing to be gentle and stern at the same time.

"You don't know that."

"Yes," she insisted again, unable to stifle a small snort. Were they really going to do this? Now was not the time to be having this argument. There was too much going on, too much that was far more important than this ridiculous game of back and forth. "I do. Trust me, he's got more to worry about right now."

Her words made Emma's eye brows raise with curiosity. "Really? And what might that be?"

"Emma, please," Mary Margaret sighed looking both embarrassed and frustrated. "Give it a rest, now is not the time," she begged with tired eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered harshly at her mother, "but every time that man tries to do something it always seems to effect us somehow."

"What 'that man,'" she suddenly burst out, irritated at the woman's persistence "is working on has nothing to do with you, or your family, or your town." She wouldn't tell them what it was, she wouldn't tell them about Bae, it didn't concern them. She'd never promised him, but it seemed to be a silent agreement they'd made to keep Baelfire to themselves. The only three people that would be affected by this was him, her, and his son. "But trust me, for the moment he is too occupied to spend his days chasing after the Evil Queen," she said in a reassuring tone. The only way he would was if she ever came after her again, and after how she'd barely escaped last time, she didn't think she would be silly enough to try that again.

"I can see you believe that," she muttered after a concentrated stare.

"And I can see you don't," she responded in a disappointed tone, her words meant nothing to her. "He's changed," she blurt out, the words leaving her mouth so quickly she didn't have any time to think about what she was saying, but she found herself smiling at them anyway. "You may not see it, you may not want to see it, but I do. He is a changed man. You can trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about where he is concerned." The words were true. Emma, her family, Ruby, no body else in the room had to believe her, no one else had to know it, but she did. He had changed, and that made all the difference.

"Thank you," she muttered glancing behind Emma, who had become strangely silent in the wake of her bold statements, to her parents who wore looks mixed with fear, embarrassment, and grief. "For the offer," she reminded, "but it's fine I can walk home from here. Ruby, you can still pick me up tomorrow?"

Ruby offered her a small, shy, smile and nodded, still too shocked at the conversation that had taken place before her to say the words. She glanced down at the mug of beer she'd left on the table, and picked it up. "To, uh," to what? She hadn't known Archie well, they'd barely had a few words in the time they'd had together. But he had been a good man, she'd sensed that, he'd always been willing to listen to her and take her word for what it was. Even Rumple seemed to respect him for a reason she hadn't asked about yet, but that said more than enough about his personality than anything. "To a man that understood the misunderstood," she muttered, before following tradition and drinking down her share. Then, after offering a final smile, hoping they understood she wouldn't harbor any ill will toward them, she turned and left.


	80. Unimaginable Possibilities

Ruby picked her up promptly that morning, with a shy smile that she had come to know as a sign that she was trying not to be as sad as she felt inside. As she folded herself into the car she asked if she was alright. Ruby merely nodded and gave another quick smile when she realized that she had suddenly frowned again. "Yeah, fine," she breathed, glancing down at her hands, wringing in her lap, "thanks for coming."

"It's no problem. Where, where are the others?" she asked looking around. The roads seemed empty, it was early she supposed, but she thought she would at least see a few people out on their way to the cemetery.

"There's not that many of us," Ruby informed her, "Marco wanted it small and quick so…" her voice trailed off as she stared out the window. The shock of it still hadn't worn off, but she couldn't really blame her. Death was never easy for anyone to deal with.

She reached out and placed a hand against her shoulder and offered another comfortable smile. She couldn't lie to her friend, things weren't ok, they weren't going to ever go back to normal, but with time they would get better. It would be a new normal, a new kind of life. No, she couldn't tell her things were ok, but she could let her know that she'd be around for her, no matter what she needed.

Ruby offered her that same small smile, hid her tears, and they drove on in silence. The cemetery was on the edge of town, it was quiet and fog clung to the grass and fallen leaves. Ordinarily it would have been a beautiful morning, a little chilly, but with her gloves and hat, it only felt cool and crisp as it should have been this time of year. They walked over the grass in silence, joining the dwarves, Marco, who had brought Pongo, and Granny, who Ruby ran up to and hugged a little tighter than she normally did. The crowd milled around, no one really saying anything, just exchanging quiet, mournful, glances as they pretended not to look at the coffin prepared to go into the ground.

They continued to wait. Mother Superior arrived in David's truck, and only a few minutes later the rest of the family pulled up and Snow, Emma, and Henry got out and walked toward the small crowd. With the arrival of the royals the group suddenly seemed to circle around the grave, an unspoken agreement that they could begin now.

Marco stepped forward and passed off Pongo's leash to Henry who took it without a word. "Thank you," Marco muttered, "all of you, for coming," she could see the tears welling up in his eyes and hear the cracking of his voice. Ruby had told her about the long history Marco and Archie shared, and she didn't know what he was going through. The one person it seemed like he'd always had in his life, that he'd come to depend upon, was suddenly gone, and she couldn't imagine the suffering that was bound to cause. "I, uh, didn't prepare anything," he said, his accent slurred, she guessed, from the tightening of his throat. "I'm not usually good at this sort of thing, knowing the right thing to say was always…" his voice trailed off as he gestured toward the black box in the ground and the tears fell free from his eyes.

It was painful to watch. Instinct told her to reach out for the man, to comfort him in some way, but she wasn't the only one that had the urge. Mary Margaret stepped forward suddenly and put her arms around the man who looked strangely frail and broken in the moment. She whispered something to him, he said something back, their exchange ended and Marco made his way back into the crowd, passing off Pongo, and hanging off to the side, slightly away from the rest of them. She understood. None of them could help. None of them could fix this.

"Some of us," Mary Margaret began, looking down at the polished wood, standing straight and tall, an echo of the Queen she truly was suddenly gleaming through despite her strained, unhappy voice, "knew him as Archie, others as Jiminy. But we all knew him as a true friend," she paused and continue to look down sadly, avoiding the eyes as she did her best to make the beautiful eulogy up on the spot. She'd been well trained, just as she had in another life, and managed to say the perfect thing. "And though," she continued "he may now be gone, he will always live on inside of us, reminding us to be our best selves." Pongo stood, impatient, also looking down at his masters coffin. She couldn't help but think that the dog understood what was happening, that somehow he understood he would never see his faithful companion again. He gave the smallest of whimper's and she reached forward to pet him, to comfort him, the only way she knew how to ease the dog. "To do the right thing, to always fight for what we believe in," Mary Margaret paused to wipe a stray tear away from her cheek. "So, we shouldn't think of today as 'good-bye,'" she said sternly "just as a way of saying: 'Archie, we'll be listening.'"

Finally Mary Margaret turned away from the box and fell into the waiting arms of her husband as she began to weep. The rightful Queen having spoken, it seemed to everyone that the solemn moment was over and it was time to move on with life again. She felt Ruby's hand rub her back vigorously, but she was smart enough to know that the gesture was more to comfort Ruby than her. It was like if she could concentrate on someone else's sadness, then she wouldn't have to focus on her own. She recognized the gesture for what it was, but also knew that she couldn't allow her to pretend like she wasn't feeling anything, and reached over to hug her friend. Just before her face disappear over her shoulder she finally saw her smile falter and felt her chest give a sorrowful heave as she let out a breath of anguish. She hugged her tighter and rubbed her back as she cried against her shoulder. When she looked up she saw Mother Superior, standing there alone, looking like the rest of them like she was only holding on by a thread. She opened her arm for the woman and enfolded her into their embrace.

This was why she had come, she hadn't known Archie well, and although she was saddened by the loss she wasn't suffering like the others were. She'd come to be a comfort, she'd come to be the shoulder to cry on, she'd come to be the person that could be strong when no one else was. As she held the women against her she glanced around at the dispersing crowd, and saw Marco, holding Archie's umbrella, and squatting next to the new headstone. He was still clearly upset, but appeared to be in control as he carried on with a private conversation with his fallen comrade. She couldn't imagine, what it would be like to lose someone so close.

Suddenly a strange image filled her head. How had Rumpelstiltskin reacted when he'd been told of her death? She'd never asked him about what happened after she'd left the castle. The little that she did know she'd put together on her own, the Queen had kidnapped her, locked her away, and told him that she was dead. He had thought nothing of the possibility that she might have been alive all that time. She didn't know what it was like to lose someone, but he did, whether or not she was alive now didn't matter. He had gone through this, knowing the one person that loved him, the one that saw him was gone. Forever.

A terrible thought entered into her head and immediately tears sprung to her eyes. What if it was him? What would happen if she ever lost him like this? What would happen if she couldn't protect the dagger, if someone discovered it and killed him for the terrible beast inside of him? How would she feel knowing there was no hope of ever seeing him again, of never talking to him, never touching him, never hearing his voice? She gasped at the horribly depressing thought. The image of kneeling by his headstone, alone, knowing no one would ever arrive for a service like this, or offer kind words, if he died made her breath catch in her throat.

It was an easy answer. She wouldn't survive. Being away from him the two times that she'd left him already had nearly consumed her as it was. Then, she had the knowledge that he was alive, at least. If he was dead, if all hope was taken away from her…physically she might go on, but he would take the soul that he loved with him. And she couldn't bear to think of what she would be if she didn't have that essential part of her any more. No, if she ever did lose him, she surely wouldn't survive the blow. It was simply an unimaginable possibility.

The tears gathering in her eyes suddenly cascaded down her cheeks. He was fine. He was safe. Frail and weak as he looked in this world, she knew that his curse kept him sturdier than most people. So long as the dagger was safe, so was he, and so was she. But that didn't stop the feeling in the pit of her stomach, that the next time she saw him couldn't come soon enough. It simply made her want to retreat and bury herself against his shoulder, let him hold her for a while, and reassure herself that she was luckier than she remembered sometimes.

Ruby broke free of her embrace and ran for Mary Margaret, and David reached out a reassuring hand for Mother Superior, leaving her standing all alone at the site as group by group people began to leave. "Are you going to come?" Ruby asked turning back to her and whipping a stray tear from her eye. "We're all getting together at Mary Margaret's," she explained still wrapped up in her friends arm's. "I completely forgot to tell you. Do you want to come?"

The offer was tempting. It would be easy to think that she could be another support for them all in this trying time, but somehow she knew she wasn't needed. They'd support each other, they would be there for each other, just like everyone in this group always had. And she? Well, she somehow felt that this just wasn't one of those moment's she could easily fit into. They needed each other, and she needed someone completely different. "Thank you," she smiled, shaking her head slightly and feeling guilty that the tears she was shedding were not for the man being lowered into the ground, but for the man safe and sound in his shop. "But, uh, there's someone I need to see," she muttered confidently.

Snow White and her husband smiled at her words and exchanged glances. "Well, just know that you're always welcome among us," Mary Margaret murmured as she stepped forward to hug her. Kind as the gesture was, the words sounded forced, like she was trying to make up for what her daughter had said to her the previous night. At the thought her eyes immediately sought Emma, who stood to the side holding Henry tightly against her. She hadn't missed the conversation, and she, just like everyone in the small circle knew exactly where she was heading. And although the look she was giving her was questioning, it was a far cry from the suspicious glances she had thrown her up until this moment. It appeared that she had truly taken in their conversation last night, and she was grateful that they didn't need to have it again, not here, not today. She may not agree that he'd changed, but she no longer saw the point in arguing with her about it, knowing that she'd never fold.

Mary Margaret released her. David muttered something about Mother Superior. Emma walked toward the car with her son and mother in tow. She and Ruby followed them back to her car. "I'll drive you back to the library, before I head over. Unless," she sighed and looked over at her timidly, "there is somewhere else I should take you first?"

She shook her head, understanding what she was asking. She needed to see him, truly she did, but he was safe where he was and she knew that. Right now she wanted to go back to the library, she wanted to change, and then maybe she would go over early to see him, to let him calm her. But she could easily walk there after she'd had a moment to herself in the apartment. She needed to remind herself that she was being silly, thinking about things that weren't an immediate concern, about things that really weren't even a "concern" yet. She'd let her mind get away from her, and she needed to reel it back in. "The library is fine," she responded.

The pair of them drove back into town, Ruby seemed more at peace now. She was still upset, that much was clear, but she also couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the small good-bye had given her the closure they all so desperately sought. She stopped the car in front of the library and Belle reached over to hug her friend one last time. "I'm sorry I made plans," she muttered.

"I understand," Ruby said a little too quickly "I just," she looked out the window "I worry about you," she admitted finally. "I know what he's capable of" she insisted, her voice suddenly fierce and determined "and I don't want him to hurt you again."

She sighed. It was the same old story, the one that the townspeople whispered behind her back, the one Emma had confronted her with last night, but it was also different coming from Ruby. It was a kind sentiment, born of true and genuine concern. She had just lost one friend, she wasn't willing to lose another. But she felt confident, knowing, truly, that he would never hurt her. It wasn't even a possibility, not even when she had been at the castle, she'd gotten him to admit that once.

"Trust me," she muttered thinking only of that fact, "he'd die before he ever hurt me." Ruby's eyes examined her carefully, not finding the loophole in her words, the way of hiding that she had learned so well from him. Physically he'd never hurt her. Emotionally, well, he would never intend to hurt her, not again, not as he had when he dismissed her at the castle. But she wasn't ruling out that he would do it again unintentionally. That, she knew, was a very real possibility.


	81. Time to Go Home

Ruby had taken her back to the apartment as requested. Before they parted she was sure to apologize for not joining them afterwards, but her heart was already too full of dark thoughts. She needed to be with him, to relieve some of the sorrow she felt. Ruby only shook her head and told her she understood, and that she was only worried about her and the possibility of her getting hurt again. She had reassured the kind woman the best way she knew how, telling her what she was certain of: he wouldn't hurt her. However she had purposefully not added on the one caveat to that. He wouldn't hurt her physically or emotionally, at least not on purpose. But unintentionally, well, she couldn't be as sure of that.

Trying to rid herself of the depressing thoughts of reality, she stepped inside her library and made her way up the steps to her small apartment. She'd intended to meet him for lunch, they'd made plans last night, but it had been a long morning, frankly last night hadn't been any easier. She needed him now, she needed a few comforting hours with him before beginning her chores. But first she wanted to change, to rid herself of all that had happened in the last twelve hours. Not only the sadness of the funeral, but all the stares, and all the comments from those that she knew.

Was there something to worry about? Or was it just Ruby looking out for her friend?. She would like to think there was no cause to worry, she would like to tell herself that he had truly changed this time that he would never hurt her again! But she knew that it was silly to believe in fairy tales. As Emma's comments had so irritatingly reminded her the night before, she was in love the Dark One and she imagined that ever being absolutely positive about his loyalties was the price they would pay for the magic within him. But she would still pay it, she would rather that than have someone kill him and steal his power. And frankly, she wouldn't sacrifice all the good times they had together, all the wonderful feelings they created, just for the possibility of something going wrong.

She sighed as she thought back to last night, to Emma's words. They still frustrated her. The daughter of Snow White and David was a good person, truly she was, but what she had said to her at Granny's still made her angry. She expected those kind of suspicions to be voiced by members of the community but not by the sheriff. She shook her head as she pulled off her hat and gloves and shook her coat from her body a little too furiously.

The good news was that after the confrontation, it seemed like Emma might have actually gotten it, might have really understood her and why she was still with Rumpelstiltskin. When she had said she couldn't come this afternoon because she was meeting him she hadn't looked at her with suspicion, only questioning, which in her mind was a step in the right direction. But it didn't mean that her words still didn't hurt.

She grabbed a hanger from her closet and vowed that this wouldn't bother her, that it wouldn't ruin her day. She was going to hang up her coat and that would be the end of it. She'd go see him, he'd put her nerves and her mind at rest, and she'd find out how far along he was on crossing the town line. Archie's death, Ruby's concerns, Emma's words, she was going to put them all behind her and try to make the best out of this dreary day.

Suddenly a strange noise chirped from the pocket of the coat she'd just hung up. She furrowed her brow in confusion for a moment, and then clarity washed over her. The phone! She dug into the pocket and pulled out the little black cell phone that he had gotten her and she sighed. She hated the thing, but he'd given it too her for the right reasons. After Regina had interrupted their lunch, and with the threat of Cora looming, and now with his most valuable possession hidden away close by she needed to be able to talk to him at a moment's notice. He had wanted her to move in again, it was written all over his face, when she'd spoken to him before she'd gone to dinner yesterday. But he never asked. And she was happy he hadn't asked her because truly deep down she didn't know if she would have been able to refuse, not after all the work he was doing, not after all he'd done. Instead he had settled for their unspoken compromise and she was proud of him for that. It spoke to just how far he had really come, how far they had come together.

The black box chirped again and she glanced uselessly, noting the name "Gold" written on the screen in blocked text. Of course it was him, no one else knew she even had it. Suddenly her nerves lit up. Why was he calling? They were going to have lunch in only a few hours and for all he knew she was still at the funeral. Was something wrong? It must be! "Rumple?!" she answered anxiously, fearing the worst.

"Belle! Can you come over to the shop? I need to tell you something, now. I..I…I am sorry but it's too important to tell you over the phone." The words poured out of his mouth all at once and he sounded out of breath, she couldn't tell if it was an excited out of breath or a worried out of breath. But it made her nervous. Everything that had happened, everything that she'd been feeling, suddenly vanished at his hurried request.

"Yes," she agreed reaching for her keys, "yes of course." All other thoughts disappeared as she closed the door behind her and hurried down the stairs and into the library. She didn't even bother with her coat. "I'll be right over," she said before closing the phone. She sped through the library and stopped only to lock the door behind her.

She hurried through the town, running sometimes, worry spreading a little more through her body with every step. Nothing seemed out of place, she assumed with the amount of excitement in his voice if something was wrong the world would appear like it was ending, and there would be fire in the sky, not rain. She was fairly certain it was good news, he would have told her if something really was wrong, and he certainly wouldn't summon her if there was danger in the shop. But she just couldn't allow her mind to ease until she got to him.

Finally she crashed through the unlocked door of his shop, breathless, and found him waiting for her behind the counter. A book was out but he hadn't even made an attempt to open it and keep himself busy. He was beaming at her. "What, uh, what's wrong that you couldn't tell me on the phone?" she asked him as she tried to catch her breath, the back of her mind assuming the worse even after she had tried her best to convince herself it wasn't trouble.

"I did it," he whispered over the countertop, a smirk turning into a smile "I can leave." The smile was contagious and her heart raced with the news. There was only one thing that he'd been trying to do that fit that description. She was right. It was good news.

"You can cross the town line!" That thought hadn't been in her mind as she raced over! It had only been last night that he told her he was going to work at it and he'd told her that he was getting closer, but she didn't know he'd been that close!

"Indeed I can." In his expression was a certain amount of pride. Not the bad arrogance that he possessed and owned so well, but rather the type of pride that came from accomplishing something he had worked really hard at. And this time, she was proud of him too. Magic could be used for all kinds of things; a taste of what good magic could do might be good for him. He reached over and pulled out a vial of clear liquid "When I pour this potion onto the object that I hold most dear, that object becomes a talisman. It allows me to cross the town line and still remember who I am," he explained.

"And who you're looking for," she added.

"My boy," he finished with a hint of relief in his voice. It had to feel strange, to have more than one lifetime of build up, years and decades of planning and scheming and now to finally have that within reach, it was finally real. She wasn't surprised to find relief etched on his face along with the genuine happiness. His smile alone made a lump rise and catch in her throat. To say she was happy for him didn't even begin to cover it.

"What," She reached for his hand "what will you enchant?" she asked, wondering if her tea cup was about to go on a long journey. It was something special to both of them after all. But as soon as she'd had the thought, she knew that it wouldn't work. Not because it wasn't special but because it was theirs and not something connecting him to his son. However, it came of no surprise to her that he seemed to know the answer the second she'd asked the question.

"Well," he turned to the safe he kept hidden behind a painting and pulled out a tan piece of cloth that she'd caught only a glimpse of once before. "This shawl is all I have left of my Baelfire," she reached out and touched the delicate fabric in his hands. It was aged but well preserved, whether by magic or just by care she couldn't tell. She'd never come across it in the castle when she'd found the boys clothes so where he'd been keeping it was a complete mystery. Just like how he had gotten their tea cup here and kept it safe in all his wanderings. He was a lot more sentimental than he liked to seem.

A thought dawned on her suddenly, one she'd never considered before because they'd been focused on just getting across the town line, but now she was curious. He could leave. What about her? "I don't suppose," she began gently, "I could come with you." His face fell the moment she asked the question, and she knew the answer before he gave it.

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words "I truly wish you could, but I only have enough of this potion for one object." She nodded and understood. She'd seen the amount left and knew it wasn't enough for the both of them. She was sad as she watched him lock the precious object way, she'd miss him, just like she missed him every day she didn't come to spend time with him. But this wasn't an ending, it was a beginning, and though he might be away for a while, she knew that he would come back. Bae wasn't the only important person in his life, not any more.

"Hey, this is my journey, Belle," He said trying to lighten her spirits and moving around the table so nothing would be between them. "This is my journey, and I'm afraid this is something I have to do alone." The look in his eye saddened her. She wanted to see him happy again, and not looking like he was torn between the two people he loved most in the world. There would be time in the future, she reminded herself, to travel and see the world, but first he had to find Baelfire. For once it was him that was going to be the hero, and that took more bravery than he really knew.

But she did, so she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "I know" she squeezed, hoping this "journey" would be a quick one. He wasn't leaving for good, but it seemed like this becoming something of a habit that they'd fallen into. They were together for a short time and then separated, together and then apart. Were they forever doomed to have a few brief moments of happiness before always being separated? She pulled away as a clock behind them struck the half hour. No, she had him now, and he now knew how important she was to him. It wasn't like last time when he would have given her up for Bae, he wanted both of them and he would come back for her, she was certain. No matter what the cost they would always be together again.

"We should celebrate." She insisted with a smile, "I'll finish my chores at the library early, you can drive me out to the town line, and we'll test it. Together." If she couldn't go with him she would at least do this with him. "Then we'll go back your house and we can talk about your plans over dinner." He nodded and made arrangements to pick her up later that night, his smile unceasing.

She kissed him and left the shop with an extra bounce in her step. But as she walked back to her library a feeling of fear suddenly enveloped her. It came so quickly from out of nowhere that it stopped her in her tracks. She knew the reason Bae had left, it was the same reason she had left. But while she'd been around to work at their relationship, Baelfire hadn't. Rumpelstiltskin was looking forward to seeing his son, but she wondered if he had ever considered that his son wasn't looking forward to seeing him. She'd thought about the possibility before, but she'd never considered what would happen if she wasn't there to help him face it.

She sighed and leaned up against the nearby wall, the brick cold against her back. The feeling of sadness for him was overwhelming, just as the feeling of happiness had been only moments ago. What could she do? If she was going to be left behind, there had to be some way that she could help him through this. The answer came to her clear as day. Her future suddenly took shape fully formed in her head like it had been there for weeks, maybe it had been. She knew what she had to do, what she wanted to do.

She'd give him hope.

She'd give him something to look forward to.

She'd go home with him tonight and stay until he left to find his son. And when he returned home, she would return to his, it would be theirs again. She had made up her mind, when he returned home, so would she. It would be the perfect time for her to move back in with him. The reasons she had moved out no longer existed. He trusted her now, he told her things, and he knew how much she meant to him. There was no reason to be apart any more. It was true, she couldn't trust that he'd never hurt her again in the future, but that was no reason to stay away from him forever. He'd worked hard, they'd worked hard, to get back to where they had been before. In fact, she was certain they had gone farther than that. It was time to be with him again.

Excitement raced through her at the thought. She'd tell him that night, after he crossed the town line, while they were having dinner. It was time. She found herself smiling as she made her way back to the library. Her last thought before opening that door, was a joyful one that only the great accomplishment of their maturing relationship could give: She was going home.


	82. Calming the Terror

She was going home. He was going to get his son back. The library would open. And together they would be able to finally start a chapter of life that she had only dreamed of having since the Evil Queen had told her that she was his true love. There was nothing that could sully this wonderful moment. Tonight couldn't come fast enough. It seemed like forever away, she would keep busy today, try and pass the creeping time by as fast as she could, try to contain her excitement. And his. But it was going to be difficult.

She walked back into her beautiful library and slipped the key into her pocket. On the cart by the door there were hundreds of books that needed shelving. Normally it was a tedious job, but it was perfect work for today. She grabbed the stack on the top shelf, checked their call numbers and went back into the stacks of books to put them in their rightful place.

But as she made her way back, she paused at an unexpected sight. There was a man standing there, looking at a book. She glanced over at him, confused for a moment about how he had gotten in. She had only just unlocked the front door, but with everything that had happened over the last few days, as busy as she'd been, it was possible that one of the other doors had been left unlocked. She doubted it, wit the dagger hidden away she'd wanted to keep the space as protected as possible, but it seemed the only explanation. She'd have to check them all again.

But, at least this man didn't worry her. She was paging through a book, that was a far cry from ransacking her apartment or stealing or searching for the dagger. Was it really impossible to believe he had just wandered in? It was supposed to be a public library, after all. Maybe it was a good omen, a sign that, when it finally did open, it would be a popular attraction. But it wasn't yet, and she wasn't prepared for visitors. "Oh, I'm sorry," she muttered. She hated to kick a fellow book lover out but he would have to wait just like everyone else. "The, the library's not open yet."

He looked up slowly and it was then that she really looked at the man. Black clothes, short black hair, the stubble of a beard never allowed to fully grow in. He looked familiar. She focused on the book in his hands. No, not hands. A hook for a hand. He looked up at her slowly, a smirk blooming across his face as he closed the book and set it back on the rack. "Oh, I'm not here for the books, love."

That face, that voice, that hook, "You," she remembered suddenly. Just the memory of their last encounter made her cheek sting where the bruise had been for weeks after his last visit. It was a painful reminder that this man before her was not a friend. Just the opposite. Who he was exactly she'd never figured out. After she'd come to the morning after he'd slapped her the man who had tended to her cheek had laughed at her questions and said simply "you'll never see that pirate again, Princess." She took a timid step back, trying to keep her fear in check so that she could think. But it was clouding her judgment; it made her feel like she was walking through a haze. "You're the one who broke into my cell at the Queens palace," the shadows were crossing his face, and with that terrible smirk he looked more terrifying than she remembered.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that she had a straight shot to the door. And through her fearful fog one word echoed in her mind. Run! She tore off through the library, each step bringing her closer to freedom. But, just before she could get to the door the man suddenly reappeared. He cut her off; he was standing between her and the only way out. The only shield that she had was that cart of books. She took a few deep breaths. Who was this man? What did he want? Why was he here? The running was helping her clear her mind and the memory swam to the surface. "You wanted to kill Rumpelstiltskin," she accused. The last thing she could remember before that terrible slap left her helpless.

"Oh I still do," he whispered with determination. "But right now I'll settle for you," he said pointed at her. He stepped aside, making a move for her. Adrenaline raced through her body, giving her enough strength to act on instinct. Before he could move further she toppled the shelf of books onto the man, he fell to the floor underneath them. It hadn't worked as well as she'd hoped, he was still free, just slowed down. She couldn't leave the front way, there had to be another way out.

She glanced around and saw the elevator. Rumple had showed her how to work it when they'd hidden the dagger. She couldn't go up to where he'd hidden the weapon that would kill him, she knew that the man already knew about the myth of it. And she couldn't go down, as he'd warned her she wouldn't be able to without magic. But the small shielded space was her only option at the moment. Running over to it and copying his motions to open the doors, she thought it was ok. She didn't need to go anywhere, she only needed a safe place while she figured out what to do next. Once safely inside she saw the man had finally managed to free himself and was coming at her. She pressed the handle that closed the doors and instinctively backed herself against the far wall watching as he collided with the closed steel doors.

The doors banged and the hanging steel cage she was in vibrated and swayed with it. Now what? Rumple! Through her terror the name came to her and she remembered that before going to see him she had pocketed the cell phone he had given her. She hadn't needed it until now, but she was certain this was the very reason that he'd wanted her to have it. If anyone would know what to do he would.

Her hands shaking, she pulled it out of her pocket and punched the buttons that would get the message to him. She held the device to her ear, listening to a strange warble before she finally heard his voice, "Hey Belle!" Another bang wracked the elevator and she tried to catch her breath so she could speak to him.

"Rumple!" she said hoping he'd hear the desperation in her voice. "I'm, I'm in the elevator," she tried to get out everything that she could, to prepare him, to warn him. "There's a man here. He broke in and he wants to kill me!" She said in one gulp. A strange crinkling sound was coming from the device. He was saying something but she couldn't make out the words. It was getting worse by the second. Another bang. She had to say as much as she could before it was completely useless. She prayed he would know to come to her, that something was wrong, that she needed him. He always had in the past! "He's a pirate and he's missing a hand!" she exclaimed, before the crinkling stopped suddenly. "Hello?" Nothing.

She looked at the screen but it told her nothing and she closed the thing in frustration bracing herself against the assault. She closed her eyes and tried to think, of anything. But she had no weapons, no way out, there was nothing she could do. Then, just as she was close to sinking down into a ball and weeping, it stopped. She stared at the door, waiting for it to begin again. But just as suddenly as he had appeared, he seemed to have vanished. She couldn't move. Fear paralyzed her and held her in place. Not even the encouraging words she was repeating in her head were helping.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, the pattern of the elevator cage etching itself onto her back. Her heart didn't stop pounding. She still didn't feel like she could keep the air in her lungs. Suddenly a long clicking came from the doors. She pressed herself flat against the surface. It was the mechanism. The one on the outside that opened the door. He'd figured it out. He was going to come in here and kill her. This was it. This morning they had buried Archie's body, tomorrow it would be hers! Her fingers curled around the grate as she fought tears of pain and regret. The doors rattled open.

Rumpelstiltskin stood before her with a look of relief on his face, "Belle." She ran to him without a second thought and threw her arms around him, gripping as tightly as she could. He caught her, his hands settled against her back, and he was whispering to her in a gentle voice "it's ok, it's ok," as he rocked her side to side. She honestly didn't think she would live to see him again. "Here," she felt the large form of one of his jackets around her shoulders, and she released him, but couldn't stop her hands from trembling as she maintained her grip on his arms.

She looked around the room like she might see the man standing in the corner over his shoulder. "Where, where is he?" she asked him. But he seemed to have disappeared. Somehow that didn't make her feel better.

"I don't know," he muttered, looking her over with shocked concern. She wrapped the coat around her tighter, suddenly feeling very chilly, and tried to focus on his hands squeezing her arms securely, and his face. It held just a hint of fear looking back at her through the worry. Had he ever really seen her frightened before? Upset? Yes. Panicked? Sure. But petrified? No. It seemed to startle him almost as much as it did her.

"But you've nothing to fear," he said with sudden clarity, "I'm here now." He was right. As long as he was around, she was perfectly safe. Relief washed through her, as long as he was around no one would ever be able to harm her. She wrapped her arms back around him and he held her there. She could understand his relief. He had been just as frightened at the idea of something happening to her as she was. But she knew from experience, it wouldn't last long. He was a smart observant man that could hold a grudge better than anyone she'd ever met. And she knew that those who threatened her, often found them selves on the other end of his wrath. It was only a matter of time until she'd need to soothe the beast within him, and save him from doing something foolish. She didn't want to lose him either. "Belle," he said in her ear after a few moments. Then again, maybe it would be no time at all. "Go back to the shop and wait…"

"No, no, no, no" she interrupted not able to tear herself away from him. "Please, don't leave me alone," she begged with naked honesty. She was half expecting the man to be waiting for her on the other side of the door. He wanted to kill both of them, why she wasn't sure. But until he was gone she didn't want to be out of his sight for a moment, and she certainly didn't want him to walk out the door, never to be seen again. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew they couldn't be apart at a time like this. "Let's just go. Please, let's leave right now."

"Belle..."

"Please," she begged pulling back to see his eyes. He could be anywhere, in any of the hidden nooks and crannies within the structure. She didn't want to look over their shoulders any more.

He gave a defeated sigh and without a second thought or glance behind, he placed a hand at her back, and on shaking legs they left the scene.


	83. All That Matters

She left the door unlocked. If the pirate was still in the library she wanted him to leave without trouble. She swallowed hard as she let the air around her invade her senses and calm her nerves, it was calming to her. It seemed to have the opposite effect on him. He hurried her along, faster down the street than she had ever seen him move, flinching at the slightest noises, and looking around, eyeing everyone with suspicion, even the kid across the street walking to school. His senses were on high alert, she didn't know who the pirate with the hook for a hand was but he seemed to have done an adequate job frightening the both of them.

"Who was he?" she asked breathlessly "the man?"

He shook his head and continued to scan the town passing around them. "No one you'll ever have to deal with, again," she didn't like the sound of that.

"I've already had to deal with him again," her words caught his attention and he grabbed her elbow suddenly, causing them to stop. His eye brows raised in shock and confusion, a look that demanded she tell him what that meant that instant. "He came to my cell in the Queen's palace, he thought I would know how to defeat you but since I didn't, at the time, I was hardly worth his time" she explained quickly. "Who is he?" she asked again, this time a little more insistent.

Rumple continued to walk, his jaw suddenly clenched together. "Hook," he hissed with disgust. She'd purposefully left out the part about how he'd slapped her, but he seemed to have put together that he had hurt her in some way.

"Where," she had to run to catch up with him "where did he come from?" she asked. Obviously he'd been hunting Rumple even then, so why was he attacking now? Why not when the curse had broken?

He shook his head, continuing to move on, he seemed nearly as nervous as she was, like this man, this Hook, could be lurking around any corner. "I can't answer that," he responded, "until this moment I had it on good authority that Hook wasn't in Storybrooke, that the curse hadn't worked on him."

The news nearly knocked her backward. How was that even possible? "Are you sure?"

"Trust me," he snapped coming to a stop at the corner "the information was reliable." She shook her head, wishing she hadn't asked the question, she believed him, of course, but she didn't want to know how he had gotten "the information", she knew from his tone that it wasn't good. "We should get you somewhere safe, get Ruby to take you to my house or stay at the diner for a while," he suggested walking swiftly down the sidewalk again. Alone? He wanted to leave her again?

"Where are you going?" she asked, trying to figure out what might be more important to him than protecting her. Why wasn't he taking her away? The man wanted to kill both of them they both needed to go into hiding.

"The shop," he said simply.

"Why?" She exclaimed, her heart raced, she didn't want to stay in town and she didn't want him to either. And she especially didn't want them to go somewhere so obvious, like a place that had his name right on the sign! Shouldn't they go somewhere else, together. Somewhere harder for him to get to, like Granny's or his house, or even the cabin he'd taken her to once.

"Well, let's just say there are many wonderful things there that I could use to make sure that pirate never comes near you ever again." His voice was gentle but she could sense the protection and anger in it. She'd been expecting an answer like that. It was always his first answer when something was wrong, especially when someone threatened her. He had a penchant for trying to take the world on all by himself and thinking that no one could help. It was in those times that he made the rash decisions that usually wound up backfiring. But, he'd been doing so well, they'd been doing so well, and he couldn't risk anything now. Not when he was so close to leaving and finding his son. If she kept him from that she would never be able to forgive herself. And if he got hurt…she didn't even want to think of that possibility. No, this was not a situation he should handle on his own; it wasn't even one that they should handle together. It scared her too much. And besides, this wasn't their land where no one could be trusted. Here there were systems in place to handle this sort of thing appropriately.

"Rumple, no, we need to report this to the sheriff, they'll take care of him" she insisted, trying to remind him that justice wasn't always delivered by him, not in this land. There were higher authorities. But she could tell that the suggestion upset him, and that it wasn't something he was going to let go that easily. "You're so close to finding your son, please" she begged, "please, don't let your hatred for this man get in the way of that" she reasoned, trying to make him see sense.

"But he tried to harm you," he countered. In her mind 'try' was the important word. She was fine and safe now and that was all that mattered. But she knew that in his mind it wasn't enough. He wasn't going to stand for anything like this.

"But, why?" she blurted out. It didn't make any sense to her then and it didn't now. To go after her was to attack him personally, everyone in town knew it, that was why they stayed far away from her. Even if Hook hadn't been in town, he did know of the connection they shared, he knew of Rumple's reputation in their land. Coming after her was a death sentence, so why had he done it? What had he been fighting for that he was willing to risk everything just to get the attention of Rumpelstiltskin? "What happened between you two?"

"Belle," she could feel his hand at her back again, pushing her forward. She hated the tone that he had in his voice. It sounded like he was talking to a child, placing her in the corner and telling her to play quietly with her toys while the grown-ups took care of everything for her. "You know this is really not your concern," she tried not to be visibly upset at his answer, but it was hard not to be. She'd had that life once before and she'd vowed never to live it again, she'd made that abundantly clear to him before. And she surely wasn't going to let him do that to her, not again, not when it was her that this man was coming after. If her life was in danger then she wanted to know why, she deserved to know why.

"He attacked me, it most definitely is my concern," she corrected as she turned to cut him off and stopped him in his place. He bounced his hand nervously at his side and looked her up and down, judging her stance and coming to realize that she wasn't going to let up. With any luck he would realize that she also had a point. But instead of understanding she saw fear in his eyes. He glanced around them again like he was nervous, like he was looking for a way out, and couldn't find one, realizing that she wouldn't give in, that she wouldn't move from this spot until she got the answer she was looking for. With a sigh, he threw up his hand, his defenses breaking down. What he wanted more than anything was her safety, and he wasn't going to get it until she was willing to give it, he knew the cost of that. Magic may come with a price, but so did she, and that price was truth.

"Many years ago," he began, obviously choosing his words with care, andlooking around them nervously to be sure no one else was listening. "I was married to a woman named Milah, until Hook crossed our paths."

"She was Baelfire's mother?" she assumed correctly. The wife that he had told her about, the one he had lost long before she ever came along, he'd finally given her a name after all these years.

"Yeah," he confirmed, looking beyond her and into his own past. "And because of that marauding cur, he grew up without her," he spat angrily with his teeth clenched tight. She'd often wondered what had happened between the two of them. Ever since she had brought it up when they were living at his castle, she had sensed even then that he despised the woman but she hadn't known why, or what her crime against him had been. Now she saw that it wasn't something she had done to him, it was what she had done to his son. He paused, calming himself, and looking her over, like he was judging whether or not she could handle what came next. "He took my wife, he took Bae's mother" he swallowed and clenched his teeth together again "so I took his hand." A vague memory of a black and decaying hand resting upon a pillow as part of his collection worked its way into the front of her mind. He started walking again, satisfied that he had answered her question and that she would follow.

She did, but she wasn't satisfied by any means. It was shocking, but she'd heard acts that were much worse than just taking a hand. And she wasn't sure what had motivated Hook, but she was sure that it hadn't just been the loss of the hand, it was a silly thing to risk your life to take revenge on. From the amount of shifting that he had done, and from the way he had thought about which words he was going to use, she knew there was more than what he was telling her.

"That's why he came after me," she said writing it off and running to catch up with him. She would go along with his side of the story, but there was still an element missing. And she had a feeling she knew what it was. She hoped she was wrong. But, if the man had taken his wife, if he had lived this long, then why hadn't Milah? Where was she? "But, uh, what about, what about, her?" she asked as they arrived at his shop. "What did he do?" she asked, hoping that it was the man who had done something, and not him. She could forgive him for his past, she had before and she would again and probably again after that. But believing it was Hook would certainly make it a lot easier.

Unfortunately he gave her that look again. The look a parent gave a child that asked one too many questions, or when the question that they asked didn't have an easy answer. The fear was back in his eyes, and it was never a good thing when he pulled away and refused to look at her like he was now. With a shake of his head, he finally faced her again. He would never beg, but he didn't have to, it was written on his face plain as day: he really didn't want her to ask that question, because he really didn't want to answer it. In the past she might have stepped away. She might have taken what she had been given and saved the rest for another time. But she'd also never been attacked before in an effort to get to him. He was still running scared, and there was simply no need to, not with her.

She stepped forward with a sigh, and grabbed the hand wrapped around his cane, giving her support the only way she knew how. "Rumple, you can," she swallowed hard, remembering the last time she'd begged him for information on Cora, and hadn't liked what he'd told her. As much as she feared the answer, she couldn't help it. The words weren't going to be easy to say, but she needed to hear them. "You can tell me anything," she assured him, trying to put an end to his fearful look, hoping that he remembered how she'd stayed after he'd told her about Cora. More than anything, she wanted him to know that it was true. Relief coursed through her body as some of the tension left his face. He smiled down at her, nodding as he finally looked at her again.

"She died," he whispered "that's all that matters." He pulled away from her and turned to unlock the shop for them. She was disappointed by his answer. He hadn't lied to her, she would have known if he had. But he hadn't been completely honest with her either. It wasn't all that mattered. This time, it was different though, he wasn't keeping the truth from her because he didn't want to share it. He was protecting her, not from Hook, but from the Beast she had once known.


	84. Suspicious Motivations

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He stopped so quickly that she nearly ran into him after she shut the door behind them. It didn't take long for her to see why he had stopped. The shop was a mess, the glass cases were shattered, the artifacts lay shrew across the floor, and anything that could be broken was broken. It looked like a tornado had swept through the shop. He had a temper on him but it wasn't this bad, and she couldn't think about what would have upset him this much in the time between when she'd left the shop and the moment he'd come to save her that would have caused this! "What happened here?" she asked, hoping there was something he just hadn't gotten around to telling her after he'd rescued her. But she had a feeling she knew what had caused this, and she hoped that she was wrong.

"Hook," he muttered darkly, confirming her worst fear. She could hear the anger in his voice as he strode forward and explained "This is why he attacked you," her heart sank and it all fell into place.

"To get you out of the store!" she exclaimed, angry rising in her. He hadn't really wanted to kill her. Well, he might have, but that wasn't his goal today. This had been. She didn't know how thick the elevator doors were, but he might have even been able to hear her call him for help. It would certainly explain why the banging had ceased shortly after. "What did he want?" she asked looking at the damage around her and feeling guilty. She'd played right into his hands. He knew that she would summon him for help and knew that he would come after her. He knew just like everyone else in town seemed to know, he wouldn't risk her life for anything. He would leave everything unprotected to come after her if she was in danger.

Unprotected.

Suddenly her stomach seemed to plummet. There was only one thing in this shop that was really important to him right now. One irreplaceable thing that would have been left vulnerable. One thing that could hurt him to lose more than life itself. She looked up at him, but, he had already put two and two together and was behind the counter. She hurried to his side, hoping that it had been protected in the safe. But he pulled the picture back and revealed the safe door swinging open…it was empty.

Bae's shawl was gone.

There were so many emotions running through her body at once. Mostly she just wanted to cry in shock and grief, she had wanted to find the boy as much as he had! But she also had the sudden urge to hit the pirate, a feeling she'd never felt before. No one had ever made her this angry. There was also a guilt that was gnawing away in the pit of her stomach. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let this happen? She should have called Ruby, or the police, or anyone else but him to help her and this could have all been avoided!

Holding back her tears of mixed emotions she glanced over and Rumpelstiltskin, waiting for what would come. He had moved away from her, and stood holding his hand to his mouth like he couldn't decide what to make of his emotions. The problem was that he didn't handle events like this as gracefully as she did. He couldn't hold himself back or restrain himself or think logically so when he started swinging his cane at the few things Hook left untouched she was not surprised. She wasn't even angry or upset with him. In fact she let him go for a moment, let him dissipate some of the frustration and anger that wouldn't help things. But after a moment she couldn't stand watching him rage like that anymore.

"Rumple!" she yelled trying to get him to look at her again to see things straight, "we can get the shawl back!" she urged, but he didn't seem to hear her. "Rumple!" They had to think about this with clear heads. Hook would be stuck in Storybrooke too he had to be around somewhere which meant that the shawl wasn't gone it was just lost. They could find it. They had to, if they didn't and Rumple lost his son again because of a poor decision on her part she would never be able to live with herself and she wasn't sure how he was ever going to look at her the same again. "Rumple stop it!" she yelled as he turned his attention to a pirate ship left intact and crushed it until it and the box it sat upon had crashed to the floor in pieces. "Stop," she said gently this time reaching out for him. "Please" she begged as the moment suddenly passed. She ran her hands over him, checking to be sure the flying bits of glass and wood hadn't injured him. He calmed, physically, but she could still see the anger blazing behind his eyes.

"You're right," he whispered with a small voice. Then he pulled away from her, "I have to retrieve what is mine" and for a moment the face she saw wasn't his, it was the face of the beast she'd seen so long ago. It was a terrifying thought, all they'd been through all they'd been working on and this man had the power to revert him so drastically in just a small amount of time! Her own anger flared again. No, she wasn't going to let that happen, she wouldn't.

She chased after him and cut him off before he could get to the door, grabbing his hand, something anything to pull him back to her. "Let me, let me help you," she insisted, not just talking about getting the shawl back. She couldn't stop fighting for this man and that meant that she wouldn't let Bae go easily either. She hoped he would see that. But he only looked upset that she had halted his progress.

"This is my fight!" he yelled at her, pain in the anger his face now sported. It only served to twist the knife in her heart harder.

"And this is my fault!" she yelled right back at him. She could count on one hand the number of times that they'd actually had what could be called a fight: yelling and screaming while each tried to get the other to see their particular brand of reason. She could do it, and she was probably the only one in the world that could fight with him and not have to fear for her life, but she didn't particularly like to do it. "If Hook had never attacked me," she pointed out trying not to let her voice show signs of the heart breaking guilt she felt "you would never have left the shop."

"How do you propose that we get the shawl back!" he asked her angrily "have you dueled with a pirate before? How exactly are you going to help me?!"

"Well I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!" She yelled back. Fortunately though, her words seemed to have worked on him, if only slightly. He was still angry, still hurt, but it was his face, his eyes that were staring back at her now. She'd rather that than the Beast. The Beast was an unpredictable raging monster that no one could control, in fact the more someone attempted to tame it the worse it would seem to get. He was much better to work with, so long as he was himself.

"No," he sighed, "You're going to go back to the library, lock the door, and wait for me to dispense with this problem," he informed her. He even sounded like himself again, but the words instantly it made her angry. He was talking to her like she was a little girl again, someone who couldn't take care of herself. Hadn't she proved that she was more than capable of choosing for herself what she wanted and what she could do? So she couldn't duel and had little experience with pirates it didn't mean that she wasn't useful.

"And if I don't?" she asked, her eye brows raised, irritated that they were having this fight again. This was what had chased her away from him weeks ago in the first place. "You'll, you'll cast some spell, that gives me no choice?!"

"No," he responded, his eyes still wide with fury "I trust you'll do as I wish" she crossed her arms angrily over her chest and tried to collect her thoughts. She wasn't his servant any more, but it sure sounded like an order to her ears. "Just as you trust me to be a better man," that caught her attention, and eased her slightly. He wasn't so far gone that he couldn't see the senselessness in their argument. This wasn't helping, it was only making things worse. This wasn't about them and their issues, those could be solved later this had to be about what was best for getting Bae's shawl back and what was best for him. "Belle please!" he said, grabbing her elbow. It was the closest thing to begging she had ever heard him say. "Hook has maybe cost me the chance of finding my son," he explained, "I don't want to lose you to!" he urged, his voice breaking along with his bitter heart.

This wasn't the voice of the beast, the mind of the creature that she'd faced so long ago. This was him. And the look of desperation he was giving her now was enough to see the reason in his decision. To lose her and his son really would destroy him. She still didn't like the idea of him going off alone, because who knew what would happen if the beast managed to break free. But Hook had come after her once already threatening to kill her, she could understand his desire to make sure that she was hidden away somewhere safe where he couldn't touch her again. She didn't like it, but this was a fight to have another day, when maybe it could be a discussion without yelling and screaming.

He removed the hand that had once again come to rest on her elbow and moved around her. "Here, look," he wandered off into the ruins of his store and she followed with disappointment sinking into her bones. She'd made a mess that he was going to have to clean up, it wasn't that she didn't want to but she knew that he just wouldn't let her. She'd have to wait to find out the repercussions until after he returned. "I want you to take this," he held an object out to her that she'd never seen before; something metal. There was something about it that she just didn't like. "Just in case Hook is stupid enough to come after you again, point this, pull the trigger and the gun will do the rest for you, alright?" he explained handing it over to her as she nodded. At least he was giving her something that wouldn't make her just an ordinary damsel in distress again. At least she had some type of defense. It just wasn't what she wanted to be doing considering the situation. "Alright?!" he asked again frantically, his nerves still on fire.

"Y, Yes, yes" she stuttered taking it and trying to sound understanding instead of disappointed. She looked down at the item supported by her hands. It even felt wrong. He pulled away from her and made a dash for the door. "Rumple wait!" she called after him, barely catching him by the arm just before he could leave. He looked down at her, the hurt and confusion on his face was enough to break her heart. He wasn't angry at her, she'd seen that look before and they were nowhere near that emotion. But he was clearly upset with her, nearing irritation, for holding him back and not allowing him to leave right this moment, not allowing him to leave when he had wanted to. But she had to know, she couldn't let him go out there without reminding him of who he was and why he was going. "Promise me, that you going after Hook is just about getting the shawl back," she wanted a look of reassurance, a look that told her that he knew and he would come back to her just as fast as he got the precious cloth. She didn't get what she wanted, and found that she wasn't surprised by that. But the look he gave her scared her even more than that.

He didn't speak a word, but he didn't have to, that look said everything. It was a look of utter disbelief and disappointment. It was a look that accused her of being ignorant. That he couldn't believe she would even ask such a thing, she didn't understand, didn't know what had happened in the past, or what was happening now. There was turmoil on his face too. He knew what she wanted to hear but he couldn't make her that promise, couldn't even speak the words, and wasn't even going to try to lie to her. Instead of reassurance, he merely gave his head the slightest of shakes before he hurried out of the store and shut the door behind him, leaving her standing alone. Fear passed through her and she pulled the jacket tighter around her, he hadn't said the words but he'd told her all she needed to know.

This was not just about getting the shawl back.


	85. Pieces of the Puzzle

She did as he said. Against every instinct and every insistence from the voice in her head, she went back to the library. As she walked down the street she hid the thing he called a gun inside his large jacket pocket. She had no idea what it did but she got a very bad feeling about it, and somehow came to the conclusion that she really didn't want anyone around her to know that she had it.

When she arrived back at the library another wave of residual panic washed over her. Chances were that Hook wasn't here. Chances were that after he stole the shawl he had wasted no time getting to a safe place to hide from Rumple, at least that's what he would do if he was smart. But she didn't know where the pirate had come from, and that meant she had to admit that as long as his presence was unaccounted for in Storybrooke, she wouldn't leave her life to chance. No matter how she felt about the object she carried with her, she knew that it would protect her, or else he wouldn't have trusted her safety to it. Her life was one he wouldn't gamble with. His life, sure! But hers? Not a chance.

And so she reached into the pocket and pulled it out, fitting it into her palm as he'd held it. Then she walked room to room, looking carefully under every desk, checking the closets, locking any of the back doors and windows, and searching among the rows and rows of books for someone hiding away, making herself one hundred percent sure that she was alone. Finally she returned back to the front desk, after checking every room twice, she was content to resign herself to believing that she was alone. With eagerness she walked over to the door and locked herself safely inside the library, as he had requested. Now she would stay alone, or at least have time to escape if anyone tried to come in the front door.

Library secure, she turned her attention to the elevator that she'd hidden in. She didn't want to check it, and risk leading him to it if he was still around, but now that she was confident he wasn't she traveled up into the clock tower. She never went up to the clock face, for fear someone might look up and see her blurred image and suspect something, but she did locate the hand he'd attached the dagger to and watched it closely for a few moments. Finally she her eyes were able to trace the hazy outline of the dagger, and she let out a deep sigh. It was safe, which meant, wherever he was right now, Rumple was safe. Hook hadn't succeeded in killing her, and as long as the dagger was here, he wouldn't succeed in killing him. Confident that everything in the library was in order she traveled back down to the main desk and closed the doors.

The library was empty, the dagger was safe, and there was nothing more to do but wait for him to tell her everything was ok again. She gave a disappointed and frustrated sigh and then looked around the sanctuary, trying to find a place to start, to keep her occupied. Her eyes inevitably landed upon the fallen cart and piles of books around it from her earlier escape attempt. She heaved the cart back into place on its wheels and hung his jacket, which was now making her too warm, on the end. She had a moment to think that she would give it back to him later, when she saw him again after all of this was over, but the thought of where he was now and what he was doing snuck into her head. She didn't want to think about it, because she knew that the second she did she would be unable to think about why he was going after him.

She was smart, she knew that he would be angry on principle that someone stolen his possession, but she also knew, from the look of disappointment in his eyes, that he wasn't going after Hook just to get the shawl back. It was about revenge, for stealing Milah, for taking away Bae's mother, and whatever Hook had done to the woman. At least, he hadn't lied to her. She tried to focus on that one positive thing. He hadn't promised her it was about the shawl because he knew that it was a lie. It was horrible excuse for a hopeful thought, but she'd have to take it.

She sat on the ground among the books she'd spilt and began stacking them into piles before placing them back onto the cart, trying her best to return order to at least part of her life, and giving her hands something to do in the mean time. She wished there was more that she could have done, more that he would have let her do. He was worried, she understood, about what would happen to her if she went with him and placed herself in danger, but she was worried about him. Nothing had irritated him this much in a long time. It was his anger, his temper, especially over issues that concerned her and his son that made him do things that he regretted later. Or that she would regret later for him, if she had to.

Then again if she could have one wish at this moment she would just erase everything that had happened this morning, it had all been going so well before she walked back in here. Why hadn't she just stayed with him at the shop? This all could have been avoided if she had just stayed there and continued to talk to him about the possibilities of the upcoming journey with hushed excitement. Instead of coming back here to find Hook waiting for her, waiting to make their life miserable. If only...

Suddenly her thoughts stopped.

She was nearly done when she picked up a book and found a strange object that had been resting beneath it. Her heart hammered as she picked it up and examined it. It was very simple really, in fact it looked like a babies rattle. It was made of rope with a strange ball on one end, and a loop on the other. It was a knot. A very distinctive knot, one that she felt like she had remembered seeing in her life before but she couldn't quite pin point it. How had this gotten here? Had it come from Hook? As she stared at the object a thought came back to her, a memory, of going overseas with her father when she was young and one of the sailors showing her how to make a strange object out of rope. He had explained its uses to her, for why it was necessary to know this knot on a ship...

On a ship? Was she remembering that correctly?

Her mind started to put the pieces together. She pushed herself up and raced back into the stacks of her books. Finally after a moment of browsing she found the one that she needed to answer this puzzle for her. She carried it back to the circulation desk paged through it until she found the one that she needed: a picture of a knot, like the one in her hand, called a Monkey's fist. A knot used on ships. Why hadn't she thought of this before?

She didn't know how he'd gotten here, Rumple had said he had it on good authority he wasn't in Storybrooke, and she was inclined to believe him. After all, if he'd been here before why hadn't he been in their lives before now. But if he hadn't been...if he'd somehow come from another land, well it certainly explained his manner of dress. Maybe he'd had this knot because he still had a daily use for it. He was a pirate wasn't he? If he still dressed like a pirate captain, if they had no idea what he'd been doing before now, maybe he'd still been a pirate captain. "Hook came here on his ship," she muttered to herself, smiling proudly at the fact that she had figured it out based on so little information.

The ship was the answer to everything. If he knew that he needed a safe place to hide the shawl and himself from the angry Rumpelstiltskin then he would go to a place the captain felt safe at: his ship. And there was only one place that the ship could be, at the docks. "That's where I'll find Bae's shawl," she concluded. Where else would a pirate hide treasure? She hadn't seen any ship the last time they'd been by the docks but that was a while ago. How he had gotten here and where he had been if he hadn't been cursed she wasn't sure, but that wasn't important right now. Baelfire was important and she certainly wasn't just going to sit here letting the curiosity roll around in her head like she was helpless. She was going to do something about this, she had to. Would Rumple have put all this together yet? She would just have to find out.

And just like that, forgetting her chores, forgetting his wishes and requests, forgetting even his coat, which still held her cell phone in its pocket, she left the library. She turned back only to grab the small gun he had given her as her only measure of protection. She hated the idea of using it, but it was better to be safe. If something did happen to her, even if she was the one responsible for it, he would never forgive himself and she couldn't stand the thought of causing him pain like that. And so with a deep sigh and a nod of determination, she left the library again and made her way toward the docks and hopefully toward Baelfire.


	86. Knowing Magic

She hurried down to the docks as quickly as she could, but when she arrived she saw nothing. For a moment her heart dropped into her stomach and she thought she might have been wrong, maybe even had played into another trap, and she had a strong urge to run back to the library and hide just as he had told her. If it was a trap, then every moment outside the safety of that locked door meant her life was in danger and that meant that his life was as well.

But then she heard something: a creak. And not just any creak, it was like the sound shifting wood made when it was being tossed around by the ocean. She hadn't done a lot of sailing in her time as a Princess, mostly she'd been left behind, but she'd been on the water often enough to know that sound. She looked around again, wondering if she'd missed something, but still she saw nothing. But there again was the creaking sound! She knew that she wasn't crazy, she really was hearing the sounds. She still couldn't see anything though. Where was it coming from? She held the gun tight in her hand, and walked down the ramp to the dock. The creaking and groaning was even louder there. It sounded as if she was right next to it, but there was nothing there! Why then were strange noises were coming out of thin air? Why couldn't she figure this out?

"Where is it?" she asked herself aloud. It couldn't be far she was certain of that. Another groan and she looked over to her left. It had to be here. And if she couldn't see it then there had to be a reason for it. Was it possible that there was magic at work?

She paused at the thought. Yes, that would make sense. She didn't know how he had gotten magic, but she'd been with Rumple long enough to know that magic could do all sorts of things, even hide a giant pirate ship. She might not know anything about pirates, but magic she knew intimately enough. Magic she could deal with. If it was magic, then she already knew what to look for. She had to find the flaw. Other than a ship that couldn't be seen, what else didn't make sense? What else wasn't right?

She looked around, then above her, and focused. The dock looked normal. The tide riffed gently like it should. And then she spotted it! Loud as the sound of the groans, was the cry of seagulls. They flew overhead, then, one of them, suddenly landed and perched itself…on nothing. There was nothing for the eye to see but clearly the gull was sitting on a post or mast of some kind. It was here, right next to her, just as she suspected. She was right. She just had to figure out how to get on a ship when she couldn't see it. The last thing she wanted was to fall between the invisible side of the ship and into the water only to be crushed beneath a giant hull of nothing.

She looked around again, she needed wood or something long to poke the side with, maybe she could at least get a feel for where it was, or, she looked at the box of sand sitting conveniently to her right, maybe there was a flaw in the magic it was using. If she could see the gulls, maybe she'd be able to see something else. She took a handful of grains and threw them to her left. She didn't find the side of the boat. It was better. She found the ramp that would allow her entrance to the ship. She smiled happily, impressed with her own ingenuity, "found you!" she said confidently to herself, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. It appeared that some good had come from Rumple's magic after all.

With a wave of excitement and anticipation at how happy he'd be when he realized she had the shawl back safe and sound she put her foot delicately onto the invisible ramp. She felt wood bend, pliant beneath her foot. It felt strange, but she tried to ignore the unnatural sensation of walking sturdy on nothing. One foot then two, and then she felt like she was walking through a thick, dry, waterfall made of syrup. When the feeling passed, she looked up. The sight that greeted her was amazing. It was a pirate ship, just like the kind that she would have encountered in her books! She was on the pirate ship! Hook's ship! She'd done it! She was on Hook's ship!

But suddenly a different feeling washed over her. She was on Hook's ship. Was Hook around? She was lucky that he wasn't here on deck lying in wait for her, but the thought that he might be near hadn't even crossed her mind. Timidly she looked around and saw that he was nowhere in sight. Did that mean he wasn't here? Or that he was only somewhere below deck, thinking he was safely hidden away? And where was the shawl, looking around now she felt like there were a million places that it could be hidden. But for sure, it wasn't lying somewhere on deck, she would have seen it, she was sure of that. It stuck out like a sore thumb to her, just like her tea cup did.

She didn't know how much time she had. All she knew was that she had to search the ship and she had to do it quickly. Concluding that the deck was clean, she found a set of stairs and walked down them nervously, trying not to hit her head on the low ceiling and constantly scanning her surroundings for any sign of Hook as well. At the bottom of the stairs was a door. She couldn't tell what was behind it, but she had to start somewhere. With a strangely steady hand she reached out and turned the knob, ready to run at the first sight of Hook on the other side, with any luck, and the gun at her side maybe she stood a chance at getting out alive first. The room was empty and she sighed with relief, it looked like nothing more than a bunk room of sorts. She opened the door all the way, ignoring the loud squeak of the hinges, in favor of a clear shot to the stairs should something go terribly wrong.

"Hello!" a strange and distant voice called to her from somewhere below. She was proud of herself for not jumping. She didn't know the voice, but it certainly wasn't Hooks. She would recognize that accent immediately, she was certain. So who did the voice belong to? Was there someone in here? Would that person know where the shawl was?

She looked across to the strange caged bench on the far side of the wall, from where the voice had sounded. "He…hello?" she muttered trying to keep her voice down. She wasn't worried, somehow the voice made her feel strangely calmed and unthreatened. Was it just the sixth sense she had about people, or was it someone using more magic? Friend or foe?

"Down here!" the voice called.

She approached the bench and saw a hinge on it, like it opened to a room below. Through the cage she could see the space and sitting there below was a man bound by ropes! She lifted the grate as fast as she could and her jaw dropped. "Belle!" he said with a voice of relief "Oh thank God!"

"Archie! You, you, you're ok!" she stuttered, she couldn't seem to help it, before her was the man they had buried only hours ago. He was tied up but he was alive! There was something very wrong happening on this ship. Something very bad. She'd seen the dog's memories with her own eyes, he'd been killed, by the Evil Queen. How did he get here? How was he alive?!

"Yes, yes I, I am." He looked confused at her words and glanced at the ring that held him to the ship. "Can, can you uh," he motioned to the ropes binding him.

Her mind snapped out of the past and into the present. Of course! Who cared how he was alive, it only mattered that he was and that as long as they were on this ship they were both in danger. She'd come to rescue the shawl and ended up saving the doctor instead, it was just as important. But as long as he stayed there he wasn't exactly safe. Get to safety first, figure out what happened later!

She looked around and found a pirates sword, she grabbed it and sliced through the thick but brittle rope easily. He acted quickly, untying his bonds and lifting himself out of his prison. She very much wanted to escort him to safety. But that wasn't why she had come, someone needed to be alerted to whatever was going on there, but she couldn't risk losing the shawl. She had to find it. "Go," she told the doctor "Find Mr. Gold, tell him I'm here, bring him to the ship," she said making up the plan as she went. He'd come if he knew where she was, and if anyone could sort out the dark magic happening on the ship, it was him.

Still the doctor looked at her shocked as ever. "Wait," he was by her side on the way to the door, "you're not coming with me?" he asked confused.

From somewhere above them the floorboards gave a sharp groan. But this wasn't the creaking that came with shifting wood, this was from shifting weight. Someone was on board the ship. Her heart hammered as she realized what had happened and what that meant.

Time was up. It was only a matter of minutes before he found her, she wanted to leave but she knew that both of them couldn't get away, maybe if she stayed, took those few precious minutes to look for the shawl she could allow the doctor to get away safely. He would come for her, Rumple would save her. "Go!" she said making the split second decision and shoving Archie toward the door she had come from, "go, go, go!" she said harshly, but he looked back at her, and she could see that he felt guilty over the prospect of leaving her behind "there's no time to argue!" she shouted. And with that he ran up the stairs at her command. She took a glance around the room; if she only had minutes maybe even seconds then she had to chose her next move carefully.

Now what?


	87. His True Heart

She looked around the small room, checking the beds, the drawers, the rafters, anywhere that he might have hidden the shawl. She tried to be silent, thinking that maybe if she was quiet she might buy herself more time. She wasn't sure where he would go downstairs but he hadn't turned up yet, and the lack of a scuffle gave her hope that Archie had made it out without confrontation. She just had to stall, be smart and they would both make it out of this alive.

Maybe she would even make it out with the shawl if she could only find it. She was afraid to leave this room, afraid to reveal her position or change it, until this room had been thoroughly searched. Until she was certain it wasn't here.

There! The cabinet! Why hadn't she seen it before? A locked box! That was a perfect place for the shawl. She set the gun down and desperately pulled it out of its niche. She tried to open it, fumbling with the lock, but it wouldn't budge. There had to be a key around here somewhere. She looked frantically around the cabinet.

A bowl, on the top shelf, if she was going to keep a key that was where she'd put it! Close by and easy to get in case of an emergency!

But no, it wasn't there.

Maybe the chalice below, it was a little less conspicuous. There! She felt a small metal object and when she pulled it out she saw the key. She put it in the lock, felt the mechanism give way and with anticipation lifted the lid.

Nothing but gold and pirates treasure. Disappointment raced through her system. The shawl wasn't here.

"Looking for this," she spun around on her heel at the familiar voice, her heart automatically hammering against her ribs. He stood leaning against the door perfectly relaxed, like he caught people ransacking his ship all the time. But then she realized that his hand was fingering the delicate fabric of Baelfire's shawl as it hung from his hook.

She should have realized that he would keep it with him instead of hiding it. How long had he been standing there? How long since the doctor had left? Could he have found Rumple already? Could he be on his way right now? She needed time, she needed to keep him talking, that way she might actually stay safe. Taking a deep swallow she looked at the precious item he held captive in his clutches "uh, that, doesn't belong to you!" she said trying to sound braver than she felt.

"Oh it does now," he said confidently, sneering at her. His voice was threatening, and his body was blocking her only way out. She wasn't very intimidating, but she didn't have to be she just needed time. Why had she set that gun down?!

The thought magically popped into her head. She didn't want to use it, but if it was the difference between life and death, the difference between making it back to Rumple dead or alive, then she was going to take it. He needed her to take it. She glanced over to the object on the table, and back at him, but she'd made the mistake. He saw it now too. Taking a deep breath and summoning all her strength she dove for it, aware of him reaching for it at the same time.

He was faster and before she knew it the gun was in his hand and he was fanning laughter as he snatched the object away from her like she was a child and it was for her own good. Did he know how it worked? Did he know what it did? "Oh my dear Belle," he taunted, making her blood turn to ice "you should have stayed with your books," he commented fiddling and examining it. Suddenly he seemed to understand it and he fitted it to his hand, "real life can get so…messy" and suddenly the strange silver tube meant to protect her was pointed between her eyes, the hole at the end staring her down like a Cyclops eye. She didn't know what it did, but it couldn't have been good, he wouldn't have given it to her otherwise.

She swallowed, suddenly aware of every noise she heard, every heavy heave of her chest. But she couldn't let it affect her, she wouldn't. She wasn't going to die cowering before him. He needed to know that. "I'm not afraid of you," she said taking a step back, making the gun seem less daunting. "And I'm not leaving without that," she informed him, pointing at the shawl so that he wouldn't mistake her for anything.

"I admire your loyalty," he admitted with honesty. "When helping Rumpelstiltskin I'm afraid you're fighting a lost cause," he explained. It was like he thought that if he just explained who the man was then she would give up. But he didn't know the man, he only knew the monster. Her Rumple was not a lost cause.

"He needs that shawl to find his son," she pleaded.

"And what makes you think his son wants to be found?" he asked examining the gun further. Hook had a point, she knew that. She'd thought the very same thing this morning. The honest answer was that she didn't know, and that she feared it might be the case considering what had happened in their past. But nothing would be better until the situation was put to rest. And besides, maybe Baelfire needed a second chance too. Maybe he did want his father to come after him, the same way that she had wanted him to come after her. "I'm doing that boy a favor," Hook concluded with pride. But she could see past his oily demeanor. He could claim that he was doing it to help Baelfire but at the end of the day there was really only one thing motivating him…revenge.

"Have you not hurt Rumple enough?" she asked, disappointed. Was she the only one that thought straight in this world?

"Oh, I've hurt him?" Hook commented shaking the metal hook that stood in place of where his hand should be. He looked down at her like he was reprimanding her for saying something inappropriate. But how could he have expected to get away from Rumple unscathed after what he had done. The monster he'd been before she met him, well, she knew that he was lucky to be alive!

"You stole his wife!" she reminded him.

Hook paused at her words and something flickered across his face for the briefest moment. Grief, sadness, pain. Yes, pain. She'd seen Rumple wear a face similar enough to recognize it on him. These two men really had much more in common than they liked to think they did. "Tell me love," he said, casting his eyes down and moving closer and closer to her, "if a woman comes to you," he said in a low whisper "begs you to take her away, is that theft?" They were sharing the same breath. It made her clench her jaw together, clearly this man had never heard the word "no" before. She would gladly be his first. There wasn't even an inkling of temptation as she suspected he was trying to distract her with. Every man paled in comparison to the one that held her heart.

But she couldn't answer his question. She hadn't known Milah, hadn't known if they were in love or had shared true love although from what she gathered she really doubted that. "Why would she leave him?" she asked. If Milah had wanted to go, as Hook suggested, she didn't know if it was theft or not. But she knew it was the wrong thing to do. If she'd known him before he was cursed, what could have been worse than Rumpelstiltskin when he had power?

"Because he was a coward," Hook spat through clenched teeth, "because she loved me." Because Milah was the opposite of who she was, and Hook the opposite of who Rumple had been before he'd been the dark one. It all made sense. She wanted for him to find strength outside of his power, Milah had wanted him to possess power. She hadn't been willing to settle for the coward. Is that what drew her to Hook? A woman looking for power found a Pirate Captain and figured she'd just trade up? Hook suddenly pulled himself away from her and she allowed herself to breathe again as he walked over to the shawl and pawed it with his Hook. "I should have burned this the moment I acquired it," he muttered.

"Why didn't you?" she inquired automatically, grateful he hadn't.

"Because she made it," he answered sadly.

She wasn't sure how to feel about the entire situation. It seemed to be Milah's departure that set everything in place. She needed for it to have happened in order to have found him. What if she'd never met him? Would she have just remained in her father's palace waiting forever for a deal that never came, waiting for a breath-taking romance that she'd never claim as her own, married to a man who made her feel half dead instead of loving one that made her feel fully alive?

But when she glanced at Hook, she could see that he really had loved Milah, and was full of remorse that she wasn't still there with him. Was this what happened when people couldn't be with their true loves? Did they die a little inside? Was that how he had been when he was told she was dead and would never return to him? She certainly felt that way when he wasn't with her, but very much alive. They'd found each other, across time and space they had found each other, just as Hook probably would argue he had Milah. Was it possible that on the way to finding their true loves, Milah and Rumple had burned each other so badly in the process that none of them, Milah and Rumple, her and Hook, would ever be the same again? She couldn't regret that, not if it brought him to her.

Maybe there was no right or wrong here. Maybe sometimes a mess was just a mess and there was no way to clean it up. Perhaps the best way to sort it out was to just let it rest, and for both Hook and Rumple to go one with their lives, put the past behind them, and move on. "I'm sorry she died," she began truly sorry for what the pirate had suffered, but it didn't excuse his current actions, "but vengeance, vengeance won't bring her back!"

"Back!" Something about her words irritated him again. They put a crazed smile on his face and she was suddenly aware once more of the gun in his hand as all the remorse fled the room and was replaced once more with anger. "Like it was some kind of accident. Is that what he told you?" he asked stepping up to her again with a sinister smile.

"Well, he, he didn't say," she felt that same thought she'd had earlier suddenly bubble to the surface again. It was coupled with the same terror she'd felt when she'd asked him what had happened to Milah, and he'd told her that all that mattered was that she died. It did matter, but she knew now just as she knew then, it wasn't "all" that mattered.

"Oh, of course not," Hook said his anger beginning to surface in a terrifying way once more. "Of course he would leave out the most important detail of her passing!"

She stared at him for a moment, not wanting to ask the question, but not being able to stop the words from leaving her mouth either. "And, uh, what would that be?"

Hook sneered. "He killed her," the gun was suddenly visible again out of the corner of her eye as she shook her head at the news. No! "He ripped out her heart," he pointed the hole of the gun at her chest "and crushed it, right in front of me."

Her breath caught in her chest and the world seemed to blur at his words. She shook her head. "No," she insisted, her voice breaking on the word as she fought back tears. Surely he was lying, trying to drive a wedge between the two of them! Could he have been that terrible even that long ago? She'd wouldn't believe it. It couldn't be true!

"Oh yes,"

"No!" The deed was something he would do but it was impulsive and emotional. He was none of those things before she came along. He was rational and had a plan for everything. He would never let something like that get the best of him. Would he?

"Yes," Hook insisted. And then she saw what she feared most as she looked into his eyes. Wicked as Hook was, he was telling her the truth. Her heart fell at the realization. It was something that he would do. And it was cruel, even for him, even for who he had been before. "He would do anything," the gun was against her chin, distracting her suddenly from the news she'd just learned. She tilted her head back, trying to get away from it, but the more she pulled the more he pushed. Would he take his revenge on Rumple by killing his true love? It would seem a fair trade to either of them. One true love for the death of the other. "Anything to hold onto his power," he finished. "Why do you think," he pulled away from her and the gun left her skin as he suddenly seemed to gain better control of himself and his senses, letting his voice rise with every word. "Anyone who's ever been close to him has either run away," her heart lifted suddenly.

The gun had sobered her emotionally enough to think, to realize what he'd done. He walked around her, not in front of her, and the knowledge seemed to douse her brain in cold water. She forgot what he had said, put the knowledge of how Milah had died aside, and only focused on one thing. She could leave! He'd moved out of her path and given her a clear shot of the door as he paced to the back of the room, where she had lifted the grate to save Archie. Now all she needed was to grab the shawl and run. Although, a distraction wouldn't hurt either.

"Or been killed!" she stopped and turned around to face him as the gun gave a strange click. It was pointed at her again, but she wasn't worried, or at least not as much as she suspected she should be.

She was only half thinking about him, about the words he was saying. Her mind was searching, running through different scenarios trying to figure out what she could do to give herself a head start.

Could she slam the door and lock it? No, it was too heavy and he was stronger than her. He'd push it away and catch her before she could even close the door.

Could she topple the shelves beside her onto him? No, she didn't know how heavy they were and he'd be prepared for something like that after what she had done at the library. And, frankly, that didn't seem to hold him much even then, when she'd caught him by surprise.

Her eyes continued the search of the cabin, looking for something, for anything that could be helpful.

There!

Above him, it looked like a spare oar hanging from some kind of hinge. It was a long shot. But it might just have been the best chance she had.

"Now, what makes you think you're any different?" he muttered. This time his words brought her back to what he was saying. They were just insulting enough to stop her planning and give her pause. She was different. She may not have known him then, may not have known Milah, or even Cora for that matter, but she knew that their love was different. It was true. She saw him for who he was, not who he tried to be or what others wanted him to be. That was the difference between true love and love. It was stronger. It was powerful all on its own. It was genuine. He'd never do anything to hurt her. In fact she knew that he would die before he let anyone harm her in anyway, and that included himself. "Tell me something darling," Hook continued, with an almost sympathetic look on his face. "Why would you want to fight for a man like that?"

Did he really think he was the first one to ask her something like that?! She'd heard it so many times she didn't even bat an eye at it anymore. To her the answer was simple. Hook didn't know the "man" that he was referring to. It was the monster. And it wasn't the monster that she would happily die fighting for. It was the man. "Because I still see good in him," she answered, realizing that there were tears in her eyes again, although she couldn't tell if they had come from fright, desperation, or from any number of the emotions she had during this conversation. "Because I believe he's changed. Because his heart, is true," something she firmly believed, even knowing what he had done to his wife in anger. The only way to illicit a response like that, something emotional and irrational, from the man she knew was if they had hurt him beyond what she could even comprehend. And though it wasn't right, it was in the past, and he was different now. Unlike Hook, who was still on a vendetta to take away his future in exchange for the past. Now that was pure evil. "And yours," she shook her head and gauged the distance of the oar preparing herself to run as fast as she could. "Yours is rotten," she reached up, grabbed the oar and with all the force she could muster and swung it at his head, hard.

She heard the thud and felt the impact in her hand, he gave a cry of surprise and disappeared into the belly of the ship. She didn't stay to see what happened next, to lock him in, or to trap him further. She simply grabbed the shawl and ran as fast as she could out of the room. She only hoped she'd hit him hard enough that she wouldn't be seeing him for a long time.


	88. Proof of His Goodness

Her heart was pounding as she raced up the steps. She was trying to focus on the good, instead of what Hook had told her. She had gotten away, Bea's shawl was in her hand, and she could see the ramp. She was home free. But just as soon as she had that thought Hook appeared in front of her again, sturdy on two feet. He surprised her as he cut her off from her destination, once again he stood between her and her way out. Her heart was pounding but for a different reason this time. Where had he come from? She was certain that he wouldn't have been able to get up and come after her that quick. It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.

"How, how'd you?"

"Oh I know this ship like the back of my ha…" he stopped and gestured toward the hook that substituted for a hand "Well, you know," he smirked like it was the funniest joke in the world. It wasn't. Any other day she might have seen the irony in the words he had chosen but not now. She backed up. Taking small steps and trying to at least take herself out of arms, and hooks, reach. There was no question about it now. She was in trouble. She had escaped him twice before, but it had been sheer luck. And now she suspected that her luck was running out, as were her options of escape. Surely he wouldn't let her get away for a third time. "I suggest you give that back to me now," he said advancing on her, the threat in his voice coming through clear as day.

"Or what?" The familiar voice drew her attention and his away from each other. As if her very fear itself had summoned him, Rumpelstiltskin stood before them. Her hope flared but didn't last long. He had found her. Rather, he had found Hook, just as he had said he would, but she had seen that Hook could bring out the worst in him before. And he seemed to make the already confident captain even more prideful than he already was. She very much wanted the Captain to shrink at the sight of him, for Rumple to wrap an arm around her, and for the two of them to leave the ship unharmed. But watching the two men glare at each other, she knew that it wouldn't be as simple as that.

"You look different in this world crocodile," Hook jested, ignoring her and giving him his full attention. It gave her a moment to look around the ship. She should leave, take Bae's shawl and run, she very much so doubted that either one of them would notice. But she couldn't. She wouldn't leave without him, and although he had the look of murder on his face, that same evil glare she had seen when Robin Hood had first broken into the castle, she would much rather be closer to him than the exit. "Like the coward that I met so long ago" he continued to taunt "Limp and old," she looked over at Rumple, her irritation with Hook growing. He was baiting him. Trying to get a rise out of him. Was he an idiot? Did he realize what would happen to him if Rumple acted on his anger? Hook seemed to have no talent for self preservation.

"Yet, you still can't kill me," so he'd tried to kill him once before. She should have known. The gleam in his eyes was intense. She didn't think he saw her at all, which was a problem, because right now the only thing standing between him and the monster within him was her.

"Let's have it Dark One, what magic are you going to hide behind today?"

She knew the moment he'd sealed his own fate, it was as though every last ounce of the man she'd fallen in love with had been taken out and replaced by that beast. His smile, his walk, his eyes, they weren't his. They belonged to something far more sinister. She wasn't surprised when he muttered "oh no, not magic," and brought the cane up swinging it so it hit the side of the man's skull causing him to collapse against one of the ships surfaces, as he brought the cane down on him again.

"Rumple!" Instinctively she ran for him. Not to save Hook, to save him. She couldn't let him revert, she couldn't let the monster consume him again. He was better than that. She knew he was. "Hey!" she called trying to get his attention. It hadn't been her imagination, in the Pirates presence he really had forgotten that she was there. The sooner he remembered the sooner she could get him back. "Let's go! Let's go!" It wasn't a suggestion and she wasn't begging him. It was an order. She wanted to leave and he was going to come with her. Whether he wanted to or not he was going to leave Hook here, alive. "Let's go!"

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off the pirate. "Not yet Belle," he heard her voice but he still wasn't seeing her. The monster was consuming too much of his heart. It was the place that she and Baelfire took up and she wouldn't have that sacred spot invaded. Not then, not now, and not ever. She winced as he brought the cane down again, harder this time and Hook gave a small noise of pain.

"This, this is what you came for," shaking the shawl in front of him, hoping that the precious item would be enough to bring him back to her "this is what's going to get you back to Bae," at the boys name he finally glanced at it, at her. He was coming back. But the fight wasn't over yet, she couldn't imagine what was going on inside his head: a battle between the man she loved and the monster that hid in the shadows. It was painful for her, what was it like for him. He stared a while longer, even set the cane down, and for a moment she thought that she might have gotten him back.

"Oh, you're wasting your breath love," the pirate sighed, blood pouring from his nose "he can't resist, he has to prove he's not a coward!"

"You might want to turn away, Belle, this isn't going to be pretty," he snapped before bringing the cane back down on the pirate again, another cry of pain piercing the silence. She couldn't blame him. Frankly, she wanted to hit the man herself. Was he this desperate for death? The moron was signing his own painful death certificate, and although she still didn't wish that death on him, even after everything that he had done, she had to remember that it wasn't Hooks life she was fighting for, it was his. She watched one blow after another come again and again and again, and she turned her nose up at the violence, still unable to stand it after all these years.

"Do it!" the pirate finally yelled, Rumple stopped and looked down on the man's form. "Do it, kill me! He has to show you how powerful he is," he wasn't just taunting him now, that jest was aimed at her. But she wasn't going to give in to it as easily as he had. She was better than that, and so was the man in front of her. She couldn't let him do this. He was the bright spot in her life, the one thing that she loved above all else, to kill Hook would be to destroy him in the process. It was a tug of war, Hook cheering on the Monster while she was trying to cage it. She didn't need to see how powerful the monster was, she knew. But she also knew how powerful the love she carried around for him was, and whether it was a childish notion or not she knew that the love they shared was powerful enough to tame the beast, and then some.

"No," she yelled more at the pirate than anything else "Rumple, this, this is what he wants," he looked at her, the look of the beast fading slower than she would have liked. She hoped the pirate would keep his mouth shut, would have enough sense to know that his next insult would be his last. "To destroy every bit of good in you," her voice was breaking but she could see that she was winning.

"Rip my heart out," she glanced at the suicidal pirate as he did. This couldn't be happening after everything they went through, after everything they'd accomplished, their love, his words of truth, stolen kisses in the day light, and the gentle moonlight caresses. He was going to let a few well chosen phrases of revenge tear that away from them! It wasn't just Hooks life on the line, or Rumples goodness, if Hook died and took the goodness in him then she would die too. Just like the day when he had chosen power over her before. "Kill me like you did Milah, and I'll finally be reunited with her."

Fool.

Rumple dropped his cane and gave her a terrible smile "he has to die, Belle!" He shrugged before pouncing on him and placing his hand over the man's chest.

"NO! No, he doesn't!" she begged, she wasn't giving up this fight. It was in the smile she saw, he was there, it wasn't the monster that was angry and being pushed to the brink. It was Rumple. The last comment had brought him back to her. But he wasn't himself. He was hurt, the memory of what the man had done in his past life stinging and hurting his pride. She nearly had him. She just needed to show him that he was loved, that he had her and Bae to live for, and throwing them away for the pirates life wasn't worth it. "There's still good in you," he stilled at her words and looked up at her "I see it, I've always seen it. Please. Please show me I'm not wrong," he glanced away from her and back at the pirate. If there was any doubt that the monster lingered it was fading fast. The look on his face nearly broke her heart. The pain and anguish of her request. It was unfair, she knew that. But they'd been to this place before, too many times to count. And each time he had given in and chosen his power, magic, and revenge over her. And he knew that as well as she did. She hoped he would do what she always knew he could do. And she tried to put every ounce of that pleading into her eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, he quickly removed his hand from Hooks chest, like it burned him. She sighed with relief. It was over. She was so happy she could have cried. It out did every other time, fixed every other moment. He loved her. He had chosen her over his power, over Hook, and even Milah. He belonged to her. And she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

"You take your little ship," he muttered, sounding like himself again "and sail, until you fall off the edge of the world. I never want to see you again," he gave the man a half hearted slap before backing off slowly, and she knew he was thinking about how easy it would be to finish him off right now. But instead she watched as he reached down to pick up his cane, and muttered "let's go" beckoning her to him.

She stepped forward quickly placing herself between the two men. Tugging at his arm when he didn't move fast enough, looking back only to see the regret on his face as she pulled him away. Bae in one hand, and him in the other. It was right where she was going to stay. There would be other times like this, she knew. But she was always going to be there. She would chase the demons away, one handed if she must, and be living breathing proof of the goodness that he carried inside of him. They didn't say a word. She wasn't ready for that yet. So instead she led him back to the car, not giving him the opportunity to go back, and set the shawl safely between them before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, too many emotions rolling around in her to count. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet.


	89. Moving Forward

He took them back to his shop. They hadn't said a word to each other since he'd let her drag him off that ship. They'd simply piled into his car and sat Baelfire's shawl on the seat between them. He'd kept his eyes on the road, and she'd stared out the window, too many thoughts filtering through her head for her to properly comprehend them all. She didn't need to have a fight with him; she was having one with herself, trying to remember the one good thing out of all she had seen and learned today. He'd separated himself from his son, he'd killed his wife, he'd taken the pirates hand and he would have beaten the pirate to death today.

But he'd stopped.

He had stopped for her. And right now that fact was the only thing that kept her from insisting he stop the car and let her out. He'd let Bae go in favor of his power. And he'd spent every minute since searching for him. He had killed his wife. But he hadn't killed Hook. He had taken Hooks hand. But he hadn't taken his life. The monster had emerged from its hibernation today. But she had somehow managed to chase it away again.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against her seat, repeating that small fact in her head over and over again. She couldn't look at him and she couldn't think of everything that had happened today, if she did she knew she would drown in her own sorrow. Or worse, act on her feelings too suddenly, and not once had that ever worked in their favor. They were their own worst enemies.

So there she sat, trying to let the gentle hum of the car and the steady predictable feeling of the road unfurling beneath the tires lull her back into a sense of calm. After a period of time that was too short to help much, the drive was over they both got wordlessly out of the car and entered the shop, her emotions doing another drop as she looked around. She forgot that they had left it in shambles. Rumple closed the door and moved around her walking swiftly to the other side of the room and setting the shawl back in the safe. Not that it mattered, the locking mechanism looked damaged beyond repair. Besides, if Hook had gotten it once then he could get it again. But she suspected that he wouldn't try again, not today at least. She was suddenly very happy they had moved that dagger when they did.

But it did leave her worried for what would happen if Rumple left town as he was planning. Would he try to come after her again? Hook was determined to get revenge and if he couldn't go after Bae the next closest thing to his son was her. She banished the frightening thought from her head. Hook had been injured badly and wouldn't be in any shape to come after her any time soon. At least that's what she was going to tell herself until she had reason to believe otherwise. She would take extra precautions while he was away to make sure that she was safe. If she had to, she could always move into Granny's. She shook her head. She couldn't think about that right now, either. Not when there was so much dead space between the pair of them. Not when there was so much that she could be doing.

She was just beginning to plan what needed to be swept up first, when he snapped his fingers and purple smoke filled the room. When it cleared the shop had been put in place, every artifact healed and filled its proper space, every spec of broken glass knit back together, and yes even the lock on the safe was bright and gleaming again, allowing him to finally shut and lock the shawl within it. She was disappointed, not because he'd used magic, but rather because he had taken away the task she had planned to assign herself for the rest of the afternoon. She could always clear her mind when she had busy work to do; now it appeared she'd had none. She couldn't go back to the library, there was no way she was leaving him alone right now. She didn't believe that he wouldn't go back kill Hook, not the way he had goaded him on. If she had to stay here and babysit him she was going to make sure that at least one of them kept calm and didn't do something they would regret.

He was hunched over the counter, watching her like a little boy that knew he was in trouble and was waiting for his punishment. But she wouldn't do that. Or at least she didn't think she would. There was too much going on; she needed some time to herself, to her own thoughts. "I'm uh, going to lay down for a bit" she muttered pointing at the curtain that separated the back from the front. She didn't wait for him to respond. The silence was deafening. And when she was certain that she could walk without having her legs fail her she walked right into the back of the shop, found the cot and spread a blanket out on it, but she didn't lay down. She sat there for a long while, her head against the wall, knees hanging off the edge, tried to sort out the emotions that she felt like her body couldn't contain.

The entire situation reeked of sadness, anger, and fear. Everyone was at fault in this situation, but it had gone around in so many circles she didn't even know where to begin to sort it out. It only proved to show that one bad deed did not fix another bad deed. And revenge only worked to produce more revenge.

She was angry at him for what he had done. But could she blame him? Hook, hadn't exactly been helping himself. He had practically begged Rumple to kill him, making it harder for her to talk some sense into the stubborn man. But she couldn't blame Hook either. One possessive man's wife, and a pirate's lover. If what he had told her about Milah was right then he had killed his own wife right in front of Hook. She couldn't say that she was surprised. A part of her had known it all along, since the moment he had told her that she died. But she could only image what watching the one you loved die did to a person.

Then there was the hurt. And he was responsible for that emotion. She shouldn't have learned about Milah from Hook, he should have told her himself, that morning when she had asked. Disappointment racked her body. Had she ever given him any reason to think she'd turn her back on him? He'd done so much in his past and she had never once held it against him, never seen him as any different. She'd forgiven him over and over, time and time, again. It was the present man than stood before her that she cared about. It was amazing to her how they could experience something like they had this morning, and how she could be so lucky to feel like she had his trust completely, and then barely an hour later realize that there was still so much he was keeping to himself. She was sick of asking, she just wanted him to tell her. Not because he had to, or anyone was making him, but because he realized that he had an ally. She knew the concept was new to him, but that didn't excuse him.

And the way he had yelled at her! She dismissed it at the time because she knew that he had been under stress and had been in a desperate hurry to get the shawl back. Hook had just stolen his only chance at ever finding his son and she wouldn't have expected him to maintain his temper. She didn't even want to ever compare herself to the importance Bae held in his heart. It was two different loves, and she accepted that there was room for both of them. But she was not an object. She was not his possession. She was not a pretty little accessory to his life that could be set upon a shelf and added to his collection. She could have helped him. She had helped him! In more ways than one. It was her who had found Hook's ship first, her who had gotten Bae's shawl back, and she'd even managed to find and save the doctor.

And she'd stopped him. She had to take a deep breath in through her nose and let that fact filter through her system again. It was the one thing that was working to calm her at the moment. If she hadn't found Hook first, if she hadn't been there to stop him, he would have killed him.

And that was possibly the fact that hurt her the most. It wouldn't have been about getting the shawl back, rather, it would have been about Milah. She knew it, and so had he. It would have been about getting revenge for taking his wife. Revenge for his curse. Revenge for Bae, and probably for every bad thing that had ever happened in his life.

She knew so little about this woman but the knowledge she had gained today had been too much. She couldn't be angry at Rumple, she couldn't be angry at Hook, she wasn't even angry at herself for the incident this morning. When it came right down to it, she was angry at Milah, and maybe even, embarrassingly, a little jealous. It seemed like everything that happened seemed related to that woman, because of that one choice that she had made. She was the source of all the hurt and pain in his life, for planting the first seed of darkness, and creating a fear of betrayal and cowardice. It was that fear that kept coming between the two of them. He collected power to keep the cowardice at bay, and he kept her at arm's length in order to protect himself against the betrayal he feared would come. Milah may not have created the demon, but she had surely helped to summon it. And it left her feeling a lot of anger, and, yes, a small twinge of jealousy. She sighed as she realized how ridiculous it really was. She was jealous of a ghost!

Outside the curtains she heard the floorboards squeak with his weight, and she let herself fall back against the cot, quietly, closing her eyes when she heard him walk in. She didn't want to talk to him yet. She was afraid he would see her thoughts painted across her expression, and she didn't think that it would make the situation any better. She was barely ready to admit it to herself. She surly didn't want to admit it to him! She heard the sound of his footsteps and cane as he walked around for a bit then the creak of a stool and the gentle groan of life as his spinning wheel whirled into motion. She opened her eyes to make sure his back was turned then continued to watch him.

Today had gone horribly wrong. To think only hours ago she had been excited to move back in. Was that even a possibility now? Where did the events of today leave them? Tears that she couldn't hold in slipped slowly down the bridge of her nose to land on the pillow she was pretending to sleep on. She didn't dare sniffle and let on that she was awake, instead she let them fall and stain the fabric as she watched him spin, not straw into gold, just cotton into thread.

That was the one sobering thought. With the exception of cleaning the shop, he hadn't used magic. He hadn't killed him with magic, it hadn't been done for power, or as a strategic move for some plan he had, he'd been provoked. That one thought that she'd suppressed because it kept her from feeling her anger and hurt suddenly surfaced.

But he'd stopped.

He had stopped at her desperate plea to show her he had good in him. And he had. Did that mean he was finally ready to admit to himself that he was good? Not a monster. Suddenly she found the corners of her mouth fight to smile as a new thought entered her mind.

He would have killed Hook for Milah and what the pair of them had done to his life. But he let him live for her.

It had taken a while, but he had let her help him. He didn't fight as she'd led him away. He didn't leave the shop even when he thought she was sleeping. He hadn't said anything about the fact that she had not honored his request when she'd gone after Hook. It wasn't much, but when had she had anything more stable than hope? He had stopped for her, and the man who would do that, that would offer her his hand like she was his only lifeline in a deadly storm, that was a man worth fighting for. She turned her face into the pillow, remembering her words the moment the Evil Queen had captured her. She couldn't stop now, not when he had proved something so great with even the smallest of actions.

The shawl was safe, the potion was safe, and he was the closest he had ever come to finding his son, she meant it that morning when she said that she didn't want anything to get in the way of that. Nothing was going to get better until he got Baelfire back. He needed to go, and he needed her to be ok with him before he could go, or else he might not leave. And she couldn't stand the thought of coming between him and Baelfire. Milah and Hook had ruined enough of his life, she wasn't going to let them come between the two of them as well. If she was the last good thing left for him on this earth, she wouldn't let a ghost keep him from having her. And she wouldn't let Milah tint the way she saw him. If she had to fight all the ghosts and demons in his past single handedly, then so be it.

She glanced out the window and noticed the night was beginning to take the light out of the sky. "What time is it?" she asked gently from her place on the cot, hoping he wouldn't notice the wetness on the pillow. He wouldn't, he couldn't. He stilled his hand turned his head but still wouldn't look her in the eye. She didn't like to know that he was hurting, but if he felt ashamed or embarrassed it only proved to show her that there was some sense of right and wrong in him.

"Nearly sundown," he whispered. He kept her in his peripheral vision, at arms length, his safe distance. He was building his wall up again, and she wouldn't have it, not after all she'd done to tear it down. She rose from her place at the cot, dusted off her skirt, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, destroying it once again.

"We should probably head out to the town line before its dark," she suggested. He paused for a moment letting those words sink into him, then turned at his place to glance at where she stood behind him, finally meeting her gaze. Disbelief was seeping from every groove in his face. She liked when he looked at her like that, like she still surprised him.

Nothing was fixed, and it probably never would be, they couldn't erase the events of today, but there would be time to talk, maybe even fight, about it later. But tonight wasn't about her. Tonight was about Baelfire. He was going to cross the line, and she didn't want him to do it alone.

A knot tightened in her belly, she had a bad feeling about going to the town line. It hadn't dawned on her until this morning that to cross the town line was to lose your memories. If anything failed tonight…she shivered at the thought. It had to be done. He had to test it. She tried to find the feelings she'd had that morning when she'd first met with him and they'd both been excited. She took a deep breath and swallowed her anger and her hurt down, and focused on the positive thing. He'd stopped. And if this was going to happen she wasn't going to let their last memories to be filled with something she would regret. She managed to stoop down and wrap her arms around his neck, "You need to find your son," she whispered.


	90. All Magic Comes with a Price

He pulled the shawl out of the safe and left the shop, locking it behind him, with a bit of sadness in his eyes. He knew the risks, too, and he was just as worried as she was. Despite the events of the day she found the courage to shove them from her mind and focus on this moment. She set her hand against the one he held the cane with and offered him a supportive smile. He sighed as he looked at her, regret still lingering, like he expected her to run away any moment now. She wrapped her hand around his elbow and he wordlessly handed the shawl to her.

They walked arm in arm to his car, separating only to get in. Then they drove in silence again, but he was a blank slate to her, it was the first time she could remember that she couldn't get a read on him. She knew that whatever it was going through his head wasn't the excitement that she hoped this moment would bring. He looked tortured, just like he had since she'd pulled him off the ship. Whether it was the past and today that was playing like a broken record, or the possibility of being able to leave town and not knowing if he would return with or without his memories, she couldn't identify which and it was driving her mad. She refused to let this day and the silence between them spoil what was supposed to be a happy moment.

It was dark by the time she saw the "Now Leaving Storybrooke" sign and the bright orange line that separated the town from the rest of the world seemed to glow in the dark. But she paid it no heed, even as he pulled the car to the side she still continued to look at him, trying to figure out his expression. The knot in her stomach kept tightening but she told herself that she was simply excited for him. Nothing bad was going to happen, but no matter what she told herself the feeling wouldn't go away.

He stopped the car, turned off the lights, but he didn't get out. She watched him, confused, and waited for him to make the first move. He knew the risks and she knew that he wouldn't risk this unless he was certain. So why was he stalling then?

Suddenly he reached between them and picked up Bae's shawl from the place she had laid it. "This would have been lost," he admired the object, purposefully looking away from her "if it wasn't for you Belle. I would have been lost," he whispered harshly. She smiled sadly at the compliment, not wanting to interrupt him, and not knowing what to say. Because in her heart of hearts, she knew that what he was saying was true. The thought of what he would have done if she hadn't been there still scared her more than anything else that had happened today. He needed her, and this might be the closest she'd ever get to hearing the words.

"After everything you've learned about me, after everything I've done, why haven't you given up on me?" she smiled at his comment, it wasn't all useless. She'd often wondered if he realized just how much she loved him. How could he know when every day she learned a little more about it herself? Sometimes she didn't know how far she was willing to go until she'd gone the mile and then realized that she'd gladly do it again, as well as go the next extra mile just for the same results. She knew who he was, even if he didn't. And she knew who he could be, even when he refused to acknowledge it. Suddenly the feeling that she'd had going back to the library that morning returned to her. This was a good thing and everything was going to be ok. If she was only ever a hero to him, for this purpose only, then that would be good enough for her.

She reached across the divide and grabbed his hand. "I learned a long time ago that when you find something that's worth fighting for" she squeezed his hand, hoping he would understand. "You never give up," she felt her voice crack as she said the last words. It was worth it to her and she would never give up, but she wanted it to be worth it to him. She wanted him to pursue her, and who they could be together, relentlessly just as he had pursued Baelfire across land after land for all these years. His face wrinkled in a sad smile. She didn't need him to say anything; he'd never proved anything with his words, and she knew, just like she knew the sun would rise tomorrow that someday he wouldn't need words, because he would show her. It was always his actions that had proved far more to her than anything he'd ever said. And that included the actions of today.

As she watched the smile blossom over his face she slid over quickly, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat she knew better than her own. It took him a while before she felt his arms close around her, maybe a little tighter than they normally did. It was going to be ok, it had to be.

After a few moments they finally slid out of the car, Bae's shawl in one hand and his elbow in the other. If Baelfire was important to him, then he was important to her as well. She wanted nothing more than for this to work, and if it didn't, if that thing that could go horribly wrong in the end did, then she'd still be waiting there for him, she'd fight for what was worth it and if it took a lifetime of trying over and over, then she would never give up. It simply wasn't in the nature of brave hero's, and it wasn't in hers either.

When they reached the bright orange line he uncorked the bottle of potion and she held out the shawl for him. She glanced between him and the fabric as he poured the watery substance over it. Suddenly, in her hands, the shawl took on a bluish hew and looked like it held the waters reflections before fading back to a normal piece of scrap cloth. He tossed the bottle away, and she glanced at him, making sure it looked like everything was normal. His face was concentrated and formal, and she smiled as she realized that he was ready to put it on. Ready, but still hesitant. Whatever had happened in that car, it had restored her ability to read his emotions and thoughts, the only hidden talent she ever really cared about. She let out a sigh of relief as he bowed before her and she wrapped it delicately around his neck.

She held on to the ends as they looked at each other, both preparing for the worst, hoping for the best, and too scared to say it out loud. "Ok," she felt a smile on her face, but fear still boiled in her belly. She wouldn't say good-bye, she didn't need to, and this was going to work. It would be ok.

"Here we go," he confirmed only a small hint of uncertainty detectable in his voice. He believed it would work. He gave her hand a final squeeze and she found herself holding her breath as he let go. It would be ok. Gingerly, he placed his cane across the line, then one foot, then the other.

Suddenly the same blue tint she'd seen on the cloth covered him head to toe and a non-existent wind blew his hair back. She watched him nervously, keeping herself behind the line. It was then that she realized if something was wrong she couldn't go after him, she couldn't cross the line and forget herself. If she forgot then who would help him to know who he was.

The tint faded, and she waited with bated breath for him to turn and let her know it was ok. She was too afraid to speak, to have her fears confirmed. Her heart pounded in her throat as he finally faced her after what felt like a thousand years, a look of shock and disbelief on his face as he looked around at his surroundings. Was it shock at where he was or shock that it had worked? His eyes met hers and she realized that tears were building in her eyes, blurring his features. What would she do without him? She knew he needed her, but she'd never told him just how much she needed him too. He raised his hand and pointed at her, a smile spreading across his face. "Belle."

She laughed, it was the most beautiful word she'd ever heard in her life and she had to fight to keep her fearful tears of joy from running down her cheeks as her panic dispersed. "It worked!" she laughed reaching out for him as far as she could.

He was laughing too, overjoyed as he took that extra step closer to her, "It did, it did."

She took a deep breath, pushing the fear that she still felt down. It was ok. This meant more than just a simple crossing of the line. This was what his life was leading up to. This was it. It was ok. "Now you can find your son," she knew he didn't need to be reminded, but she wanted him to know that she was just as happy and excited as he was.

He nodded "Belle, I so wish you were coming with me."

"As do I," after everything that had happened she never wanted to be apart from him again. They were better together than they were apart. But she wouldn't argue and she couldn't. Logistically he didn't have enough potion, and even if he had she doubted a porcelain tea cup would travel well. Besides what he had said earlier was true. He had to do this alone. Bae needed to see his father. They needed to work out whatever issues they had between the two of them on their own. As much as she wanted to she couldn't help that process. But she could do one thing. She could be his support. She could hold him throughout the process, just like whoever Baelfire would turn to help him.

She couldn't do anything out there, but she could certainly do something here. Before the world came crashing in on them today she had thought that it was time to move back in, it was after this trip that he would need her most. She'd worried about doing that only hours ago, wondered if she could after everything that had happened. But she knew, the day's events, what had happened between him and Milah, between him and Bae, separation would get them nowhere. But what they could do together?! The possibilities were so endless they were overwhelming. "But, it doesn't matter," she'd been planning on telling him over dinner tonight, but the look on his face told her now was as good a time as any.

"Why not?" he questioned.

"Because you'll find him, and when you do, I'll be here waiting for you when you get back." They smiled at each other, both knowing the meaning and the hope buried within her statement. She watched him come toward her and she reached for him as far as she could. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to know how much she loved and believed in him. She wanted him to know that nothing had been lost and everything was back to the way it should have been.

Behind her sounded a loud blast and a sharp pain in her shoulder threw her suddenly off balance, making her stumble to catch her own weight. She barely had a moment to think that she couldn't fall over that line…


	91. Strangers

_"Belle!" All she knew was pain. She wasn't sure where she was, but her shoulder hurt, badly, and for a moment she felt the most horrific headache. But it left almost as soon as it had come, so fast she didn't even have a chance to cry out at it. The world around her was dark, and felt blurred. Through waves of agony she was vaguely aware that something soft was holding her, helping her gently to the ground so that she didn't fall and injure herself more. _

_"Belle!" the soft thing yelled, she looked up at the stranger before her. She didn't recognize the man hovering over her, touching her, watching her with tears coming to his eyes. Who was he and why was she here with him? Why had they come here and…who was she? Panic flooded into her as the man screamed at her again "Belle!" She was shaking, unable to put together the pieces of what was happening or where she was or who any one here was._

_"Who, who's Belle?!" she yelled back at him. Was that supposed to be her? Was that her name? She cried and tried to move away from him but the pain in her shoulder paralyzed her. She glanced at the man above her, he looked heartbroken at her then pulled away and looked at his own shaking hands. They were stained with red. Blood! Was that her blood? Was she bleeding? Was that why her shoulder hurt so much? What had happened to her?! Why was she here?!_

_"Oh no," the man cried out "oh, no, no, no!"_

_"Oh, fear not, she'll live," said a voice. Over her shoulder she saw another man standing there, covered head to toe in black, blood covering the side of his face. He was holding a gun. Had she been shot? Why had someone shot her? What had she been doing that she had gotten shot. Was she a criminal? Was she a bad person? Tears gathered in her eyes. This was all a bad dream it had to be. "She'll just have no idea who you are!" the man-in-black said, but his words made no sense. She hadn't been shot in the head, and bullets couldn't make you forget yourself. What was happening?_

_"What you've done cannot be undone!" the man cried gesturing to her. She wanted to scream, they were talking about her. They had to have been! Why couldn't they just talk to her, just give her answers?! Who was she? Why was she here? Why had she been shot? Who were they?_

_"Now you finally know how it feels!" the man-in-black yelled "Go ahead Crocodile do your worst!" The man over her glanced up at the man in black. Then, in a gesture she was sure meant something more that it seemed, gathered her up and moved her ever so slightly, she wasn't sure where and she wasn't sure why, only that it made the twinge in her shoulder spike into blinding pain and she closed her eyes blinking away tears. She needed help! In so many ways._

_The man gritted his teeth together, "Oh, I intend to," he whispered. Her heart pounded and for a second she forgot the pain in her shoulder. Fire! Was that fire she was seeing! How was this possible! The man was holding a ball of flame in his hand! That was impossible! Her breath caught in her chest as she watched him rise his arm like he was going to throw it. At who? Her? The man-in-black?_

_But suddenly she saw a shadow caused by unnatural light. The man glanced behind him, gave a small cry and dove for her, the flames vanishing from sight. He wrapped himself around her and the two of them tumbled for a moment. It was only after they stopped that she was aware of how much had happened. All the pain, the fire, the sounds of honking and thunder crashing! _

_What was happening?! Wouldn't someone tell her?! _

_She looked up and felt weight on her legs and against her hips. It was him! He had shielded her from whatever had come barreling at them with his own body but it just felt wrong having a stranger pressed up against her like that. "Are you ok!" he asked her hoarsely "Are you hurt?" She jumped away from him as best she could. But it felt like every time she moved away he only moved closer. She moved one inch back and he moved two forward. He was touching her like he knew her better than anyone. Her legs, her hip, her sides, places strangers didn't touch other strangers. It was gentle, she would admit that, he wasn't hurting her, but she didn't understand anything and it was making her uneasy. She didn't like it she wanted him to stop and leave her alone!_

_"Who are you?!" she asked answering his only question with one of her own. She wanted answers, she needed answers! "What's going on?" she tried sliding away further but the feeling in her shoulder stopped her advances and she cried out clutching it automatically. _

_"Here, let me, let me!" he grabbed her arm and she moved to tell him to let her go but saw his hand glow purple and move over her shoulder. She stared breathless at him. The pain vanished instantly. Even the blood on their hands was gone! _

_It should have settled her. But with the pain gone her brain had more room to concentrate on other emotions. Like fear. What was going on here?! Had he really just healed her? "How did you do that?" she asked trying to hold her tears back._

_"It's nothing to be afraid of," he whispered gently, desperately. But the words didn't help. She was afraid, she was clueless, and empty, and feeling too many emotions to even count, and she just wanted answers. But he only hushed her again "Belle please," that name again! Who was she and who was he?! How had he held fire in his hand and how had he healed her? That wasn't normal! Nothing about any of this was normal!_

_"What are you?!" she half asked, half screamed, finally managing to pull away from him. Someone else ran up to him. She didn't know him either! There was a cop car behind him, was he a police officer? She had no idea. And there were more of them coming by the minute. She drew her knees up to her chest feeling like she was breaking. Who were all these people? Why couldn't she just be alone? Why couldn't she just be allowed to curl up somewhere and collapse in on herself in private? She didn't want all these people to be here to watch this. She felt like she had appeared out of nowhere. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would dissolve back into nothing._

_The man forced the stranger to his feet pulling him away from her and asking what was going on. She was grateful to be left alone but no sooner was he away than he was replaced by a woman who also started touching her. "She crossed the town line and doesn't remember!" she heard the words but she didn't really take them in. Someone else was yelling and that was what finally made him leave her. The man and woman helped her to her feet, before a commotion she couldn't see made the man leave her too. The woman was whispering comforting words in her ear but they weren't helping. She just wanted to cry. The world around her had fallen away. No amount of words, no matter how delicately whispered, were going to put it back together. _

_The woman took her over to the flashing police car and left her there, telling her to stay put, and that she would be back soon. There was so much happening she couldn't figure out what had happened or why they were here in the first place. She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked back and forth, then dared a look over at another car parked off to the side of the road. He stood there staring at her. She knew it was rude, but she couldn't take her eyes off the man. He'd caught her, he'd touched her, he'd helped her, and healed her. But he had also held fire in the palm of his hand. She shook her head slightly and looked away, thinking of the million other questions in her head. _

_He wasn't familiar, maybe something else would be._


	92. Insanity

_She didn't know where she was, she only knew that the black-haired woman had placed her into the back of the police car and rode with her behind the ambulance. The strange man had followed them in his car, but she alone seemed to notice this, and it made her uncomfortable. Who was he?! "Why is that man following us?" she desperately asked the woman sitting beside her. Tears were still streaming down her eyes, she really didn't want all these people around her to witness this breakdown of her mind. But if they were going to insist on being here, maybe they'd give her answers. She needed answers, she was barely hanging on my a thread, and worried that if things didn't start to become clear soon, she would lose calm anyway, just like she had lost herself._

_The woman turned in the seat and looked back. "Don't worry," she assured her in a strained breathless voice. "It's just Mr. Gold. It's ok, he's just worried about you."_

_Instead of comfort, the words bothered her, because she just couldn't understand them. "Why? Why does he care? Who am I? Please just tell me how I got here?"she wailed feeling the last tendril of strength she had drain out of her she leaned down and put her head between her knees and her hands over her head trying to shut out the world around her._

_"Shhh," she felt the woman rub a hand down her back. "We're going to figure this out. We'll find out why you were out there. I'm sure there's a reason."_

_"We have bigger things to worry about right now," the blonde haired woman sitting up front pointed out coldly._

_"Emma!" the woman next to her said harshly._

_"I'm sorry but we do," she argued back._

_"What kind of problems?" the man asked her with brave determination in his voice. _

_"Think about it," Emma spat feverishly to the man. It was as if she was making an effort to keep her voice down but was unsuccessful. She could hear every terrifying word. "Hook is lying in that ambulance weak and injured, she's…" she paused for a moment like she could find the right words to describe the person, until she realized that it wasn't just anyone she was talking about. The "she" to which she was referring was her. And at the moment, she was perfectly fine to have them talking like she wasn't there, because it made her feel like she wasn't. Although the woman continued to rub her back she was doing it absent-mindedly. It was as if she was a ghost, she just wanted to disappear completely. "Like that," Emma finally burst out, using only two words to describe her unfortunate state. "Gold's behind us. He's already tried to kill Hook once tonight that we know about…"_

_"I got it…" the man said confidently. "We need to get to that hospital before Gold. We'll have to hide Hook otherwise he won't last an hour. Hold on," she felt a jolt as the car sped up suddenly and swerved, she assumed down a different road in an attempt to avoid the man called "Gold". The car fell into discussion on what to do once they arrived and how they could hide the one they refered to as Hook. _

_She didn't know what she was hearing, didn't know who all these people were, but they couldn't seem to get their story straight. On the one hand the man that had held fire, Mr. Gold, had tried to kill that other man in black, Hook. He was dangerous. But on the other hand the woman had assured her that he was just worried, and Gold had told her himself that he wouldn't hurt her! How could someone be dangerous and safe all at once. She wasn't sure who the man was and didn't know what to believe. Was he dangerous or not?_

_"Do you see Gold?" the girl, Emma, asked harshly as the car made a slow giant swerve and came to a stop. He'd parked it, they'd arrived to where ever they were going. _

_"No," the man said. They opened their doors and the woman with dark hair tried to coax her out of the car. She picked up her head and looked out the window. "Storybrooke Hospital" was written on the top of the building. They'd taken her to the hospital?_

_"Why, why am I here!" she cried, she didn't want to be here. She wanted to go home. Where ever that was maybe there would be something familiar there. Maybe there would be something that would spark her memory. That would explain who she was, why they were here, what was going on, and explain the presence of the strange man. "Please I just want to go home! I don't understand why I'm here!"_

_"Come on," the woman said pulling her out of the car and wrapping her arms around her, in what, she was sure, was meant to be a comforting gesture. But it wasn't. She just felt confined and trapped. She didn't want to be around any of these people any more, she just wanted to run, and hope that her family or a friend would find her. Tell her what was going on. "They're going to help you, they know what they're doing," the woman kept telling her. She managed to get her in through the doors with the man that was bound tight to the gurney. _

_"I don't know what's going on!" she cried. She just wanted the world to stop, to sit down at a table with one person, any person, and calmly talk about what was happening. Was that too much to ask? Suddenly someone else came up to her as they rounded the corner. The arms of the dark-haired woman vanished and were replaced by someone else, a nurse, who instead of using gentle words to urge her on seemed to push her around the corner. "Please stop! Tell me what's going on! Where am I?! Who am I?!" she screamed at the woman her temper rising with each sentence. _

_"Belle," she glanced behind her and saw the man had finally arrived. "What's going on? Belle!" he shouted as the turned the corner. _

_"Please, please let me go. Please let me go home that man is dangerous!" Suddenly she felt a sting in her arm and glanced down. In all the rushing around she hadn't seen the second nurse come over to her and place the syringe into the crook of her elbow. The world around her started to blur and the man yelling "Belle!" suddenly sounded dull somehow. In only a moment her eye lids became heavy and her legs weren't strong enough to support her weight. "What's happening," she whispered, hearing her voice slur the words together. _

_"This will make you feel…" but the words were thick and slowed down. She felt arms close over her before she hit the floor. And then…_

_Nothing…_

_Nothing…_

_Nothing…_

_Nothing….There wasn't even enough of a memory for her to dream. Her mind was a vast ocean of darkness without even a brief flicker of light. She wished there was something subconscious that could trigger something, but it never came. _

_But then. _

_There was something. _

_She was dreaming right now! _

_ It had come up so fast that she wasn't ready for it. Was this the hint, the light, that she'd been waiting for. She held her breath hoping for a picture to form in her mind, but this dream wasn't coming in images, it was coming in touches. _

_There was a sensation that something was pressed against her mouth. No, just her lips. A kiss? Someone was kissing her? And she was also feeling another touch. There was a gentle hand against her arm. The dream was so clear she could even feel a rough thumb rubbing comforting circles against it. _

_She knew she had been loved! She knew that there was someone that cared about her! Someone good. She just needed an image. Maybe if she could have her dream self open her eyes, then she would get the picture of this person who loved her. _

_The pressure on her lips vanished and she willed her eyes to open, so she could see the face of her invisible lover. Her eyes fluttered and to her astonishment, it wasn't the hazy image of a dream that met her eyes. But the crisp clear chaos of reality. And hovering over her, staring at her, again, was the man: Mr. Gold._

_She screamed and pushed him away from her, hoping that someone would hear and come quickly to her aid. "No!" he said "no, no, no, no, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" One of the nurses ran into the room and flew to her side. The extra presence calmed her but only just. How had he gotten in here? Why did he continue to pursue her? And why would he kiss her if she didn't know who he was?! The man scared her. Capable of holding fire in his hands, trying to kill the other stranger, and now sneaking into a strange woman's room to kiss her as she slept! _

_He was crazy! _

_He was insane! _

_He was dangerous! _

_ There was no other explanation. "I'm sorry," he said one last time, in a very apologetic voice, then turned on his heel and vanished quickly out the door._


	93. Shattered

_She didn't like him. She had no idea who this man was, or how he had gotten into this room again, or why he had come here. Something had happened, something bad. She couldn't remember how she had gotten to that road, or why he was there with her, or who Belle was, or why he had been touching her when he didn't even know who she was._

_She couldn't understand him. He'd held fire in his hand, she was certain that he had made the pain in her shoulder go away before anyone had gotten there, and he'd kissed her the last time she saw him. He'd left quickly after waking her last time, probably because she'd screamed bloody murder at the sight of him in her room. Why would they let him in again?! Why couldn't he just leave? Why was he here? _

_Why was she here? Who was she? She felt like she had no life at all outside of this room and that road. She had to remember who she was! She couldn't have just magically appeared on that road, she had to have gotten there somehow didn't she? Then again, the fire he had held and the pain he had made vanish weren't exactly normal either. Tears welled in her eyes as he'd come in...again. "Who are you!" she yelled "Why are you here!" _

_He'd held a hand up, one meant to silence her, and kept coming closer. "I brought something that might help." Her heart hammered in anticipation. What did he have? A drivers license? A letter? Pictures? Something to help her remember who she was? The small bag that the doctors had left her with had held nothing like that! He stopped at the side of her bed and presented to her…a cup. She shrank from him. Pushing herself as far over on the small bed as possible and eyeing him suspiciously. How was a cup supposed to help her? "I know you don't remember," he whispered, holding it out for her, "but just indulge me." _

_Why? She didn't owe him anything? She just wanted him gone, she didn't want to play into the fantasy in his head. Who was crazier, the girl who couldn't remember her own name, or the man that believed she was someone else. He wasn't right, he couldn't be. If she knew him, wouldn't his face hold some memory, wouldn't the name spark something? The only answer was that she didn't know him. And he was of no use to her. "Please," he begged. What was the harm if it got him to leave faster? She snatched it from his grasp and shifted the cool dish between her hands. "Be careful with it," he urged and at his request she held it steady. _

_Why he was worried about care, she didn't know? The thing was already broken. It was just a tea cup. She didn't see the importance. Surely he had a number with this same pattern why care about the one damaged one. And why did he want her to see it anyway? It was silly really. But he was watching her with such intensity, like his entire life depended on her looking at this stupid cup, that she felt sorry for this man. He didn't look terribly old but something in his eyes did. She couldn't tell what he had been through but it had obviously gotten to him, and she couldn't help the feeling that he needed the hospital far more than she did. Unfeeling she looked up at him, "it's a, it's a cup," she insisted "it's, it's, it's damaged," she sputtered, trying to let him down easy but also to say the right words that would make him leave. _

_"Just look at it," he insisted, pointing at the object. "Focus," he whispered. _

_She did! _

_She was getting angrier and angrier. It was a cup! It had a chip along its rim! What more did he want from her? Whatever else he saw there, she couldn't see. He tapped the inside and she moved her hands away from his. She didn't want him to touch her, she didn't even want him to be here. "It's your talisman," she looked up at him. _

_That was it. He was crazy. He was insane. He was worse than she was and she didn't need this right now. How many times did she have to tell him to go? Have to tell him that she didn't know who he was? "It's a cup," she said sternly correcting him. It was a broken piece of dishware that you drank out of, and the sooner he saw that the sooner he would move on to some other insane raving. _

_"You dropped it," with a frustrated sigh she thought back. Was that true? Had she damaged the cup? No, she couldn't remember. There was here, there was the memory of the crowd taking her here, and then there was the road, before that there was nothing. This wasn't hers, and if she had dropped it why wouldn't she have just tossed it out with the garbage, better to replace it than have to deal with the broken shards. "At my castle," he added. Castle? Now she knew he was crazy. She didn't know where he lived but when was the last time she had seen a castle here…she didn't know. She couldn't remember. But she knew she hadn't seen one, much less been in one. "You were afraid that you had angered me," the words made her nervous. She didn't want to see a crazy person get angry. Was he violent? Would he hurt her? He had threatened that man she was sure of it! What would he do if he got angry at her?!_

_"Ok," she insisted finally having enough, she placed the cup back in his hands careful not to touch him "you, you need to go," she said unable to keep the fear out of her voice. "Take your cup."_

_"No, no, no, no. I charmed it. If you focus," he said pushing it back under her nose "it will work." _

_It wouldn't, nothing was working. Nothing worked any more. His mind, her mind, it was all one giant black hole. And he was standing too close to her! He was in her personal space and it was making her panic! He needed to back away "it's magic," he whispered with certainty, finally breaking her._

_"Ok!" she yelled pushing it back to him. "Just go away! S-stop talking about magic, and take your cup!" There was no such thing as magic, she didn't know him, she didn't want to, and there was nothing in her mind to suggest that she was ever going to want to know him. _

_But he wouldn't give up, he struggled against her. "Just look at it," he insisted again. It was the last straw. In a fit of rage and anger, at him and her own useless mind, she snatched the cup away from him and threw it against the wall where it shattered. He paused for a moment, looking at the place that the cup had broken apart, then turned back to her. He seemed too stunned to talk. She was frightened. She shouldn't have don't that! Would he hurt her now? Had the cup been valuable? She really didn't care. She just wanted him to leave her alone and stop scaring her, stop frightening her. _

_"Just go," she insisted, begged really. "Just go away!"_

_He gave a small, almost indistinguishable nod, as if he was finally admitting defeat, and turned away from her again. There was pain etched in the grooves on his face, he acted as if she had slapped him and simply couldn't look at her anymore. Finally he whispered "I'm sorry," and drifted away from her as she gathered herself up into a little ball on the bed, trying to stop herself from shaking. She didn't know who he was. Or what was wrong with him. She didn't know anything. All she wanted was to focus on herself, on her recovery. _

_But as he walked away, pausing for the smallest moment by the shattered remains of the tea cup, she suddenly felt a wave of guilt crash over her. He looked like she had just broken ever hope he'd ever had. She felt like it wasn't just the cup she'd shattered, but his spirit too. _


	94. Nothing

_She had nothing to think about. She had no clue of who she was. No idea of her life before she turned up on that road. Which left her next to nothing to reflect upon, only a few scattered memories and thoughts instead of a lifetime. Then, as if to make matters worse, half of those thoughts were drowned out and blurry from the sedation they kept her under, and the ones that weren't were only of the man that had come to see her...Mr. Gold. It was a terrible nightmare she found herself living in. One that never seemed to end. _

_This morning she sought oblivion in a different form. The crazy flurry of activity when she had first arrived had passed and in the calm she sought out a small waiting room, with a television, wanting to be away from the people that were constantly watching her, and hoping to find some kind of news program that would explain the world to her better than this place._

_And, if she was honest with herself, she was running from Mr. Gold. She hoped that he might have gotten the idea after their last violent encounter that she didn't know him and didn't want to. But she really didn't know if he would be back or not. In hindsight she had lost her temper, and maybe she could have explained things better. It was the strangest thing, she didn't feel like she had reason to be guilty, he'd been bothering her and she'd wanted him to leave, but at the same time she couldn't understand the feeling of sorrow that overtook her as she thought of that look on his face when she'd broken the cup. Maybe they both could have handled things better. _

_But how was someone who had, supposedly, hit her head in a car crash, reason with a crazy man ranting and raving about magic! She'd dismissed his comments earlier on instinct but as the drugs wore off, as she sat here staring at the television not listening to what was on, she couldn't help but wonder if there was something to what he was saying. It sounded crazy, she knew it did, the nurse she asked had sedated her the moment she mentioned what she'd seen...but then how had he healed her, how had she seen him hold fire? She was certain she hadn't hit her head like they said. She was certain those were not hallucinations. There was something going on in this place, maybe this entire town...and it was not nothing._

_"Hey," a voice next to her said. She waited for someone to answer the greeting before she realized that she was alone in the little room, the voice had been meant for her then. Timidly she glanced up at the woman who had said something. She smiled gently at her as she met her eyes. Nothing. No spark, no wisp of a memory, not even a possible name for the woman. But at least she wasn't a nurse. And better yet, she wasn't him. She just wasn't sure she was ready to face him again. "You don't remember me do you?" she assumed, correctly._

_She looked down at her hands, her heart sinking. Why did this have to happen to her? Why couldn't she remember anything? "Sorry I, I don't," she said apologetically. She seemed friendly enough, and at least she wasn't being as intrusive as the man had been when she first met him, touching her legs and kissing her. This was much simpler. But still, she would prefer to be left alone to sulk. _

_The woman's face fell, but she took the empty seat next to her and set the basket she'd brought down on the table before them. "I'm Ruby," she said simply, turning the television off. Ruby. The name didn't ring any bells. The face wasn't familiar, but it was still a better introduction than most people had bothered with, so she didn't feel a need to yell and scream. "You used to come into my Granny's diner, a lot before" she added the last words like they were an afterthought but an important one and a sad one. Why had she gone to the diner? Did she work there? Was there someone there she had known? Why was she eating out so often? Didn't she have a kitchen of her own? Or did she simply just not like to cook? She thought about it for a second: cooking. The thought seemed fun actually. But then again, maybe it only sounded fun because she wasn't permitted to do anything here but sleep. _

_"Anyway," the woman turned to the basket again "I thought you could use some comforts from home." Home? She had a home? She knew where it was? That was hopeful. She'd once been able to live on her own. __Who was this woman, that she would know what comforted her and where she lived? Was she a friend perhaps? Did she have friends? She picked up a book from out of the basket and looked at her under dark eye lashes and with a sly smile. "You were always telling me about Jules Vern so I brought you my favorite, _The Mysterious Island._" She took the book from her and glanced at the cover. Nothing. She didn't remember any fondness for the author, couldn't remember ever reading anything. She shook her head, disappointed with herself and the brain that refused to work, to give her even a shred of her life before. _

_"Thank you," she muttered at the woman. It wasn't much. It didn't give her hope, merely made her feel worse because she couldn't even remember a favorite author. But it seemed an appropriate sentiment for what she had done. And besides, if it was something that she had liked to do, maybe it would bring her some happiness. Maybe it could give her something else to do with her day, besides think about him. _

_A though dawned on her suddenly. An idea, a question really. She had been close to her, she assumed, a friend. If she had been a friend, then friends told each other things. Friends talked. Would she know anything about the man? Would she know about his ability to hold fire in his hand? Or why he kept coming back? Would she know why he had touched her so delicately and intimately? She tried not to think of that touch, she didn't want to be touched, not by anyone and especially not someone who bothered her that much. "Were," she took a deep breath, there was no harm in asking. "Were we really friends?"she asked timidly, trying not to get her hopes up. Probably she was just an acquaintance or a co-worker that felt bad for her. But still, it was the only other visit she'd had besides Mr. Gold. _

_The woman smiled and looked suddenly as if she might cry. But all the same, she nodded "Yeah, we were," she answered pitifully with an expression of sadness and relief. She couldn't understand the reaction. It didn't matter right now. She only wanted to know one thing. _

_"Then tell me the truth," she insisted, sitting forward in the chair hoping that she would understand how serious she was, and that none of the nurses could hear her. Friends told each other the truth, didn't they? No matter what? "Before I was brought here, I was hurt, I was bleeding, and this man came and he," she took another deep breath trying to contain her desperation and curiosity. The last thing she needed was for this woman to call for a nurse, but friends wouldn't do that. Would they? "He healed me," she said finally. _

_The woman looked at her as if she had seen a ghost. A shocked expression passed over her face as she sat up a little taller, a little more defensively. Was the look because she knew what she was talking about, or did it indicate something else? She didn't know what had happened to her, but she knew that it wasn't a car crash as they tried to tell her. And the woman wouldn't look at her with that expression if it was as simple as that._

_"Then," she continued, hoping that at the very least she might be able to gain something by her expressions even if she refused to tell her anything , "I saw him hold a ball of fire in his hands," she explained, suddenly aware that there were tears in her eyes. The very thought of him, of what she'd seen him do and of everything that had passed between them since that moment seemed to automatically put them there whether she wanted to cry or not. But she couldn't stop, she couldn't let it get in the way of any answers this woman might provide. "How," she lowered her voice, aware that she was getting too excited again and needed to contain it. "How is that possible?" she questioned feverishly. She needed an answer. She needed to know more about that man, about this town, about why she was out there on the road with him._

_The woman, Ruby, only gave her a weak smile, "the nurse said, that the tranquilizers can give you wicked nightmares," she explained._

_She shook her head as her heart fell. "No, I know what I saw!" she insisted trying to hold in her disappointed tears. It was the same thing that everyone told her whenever she mentioned it, but they were wrong. She knew it! It wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a hallucination or a dream or any of the things these people claimed they were. It had been true, she'd seen it and she just wanted the world to stop lying to her and tell her something useful. "And I don't need any more tranquilizers," she said rising out of her seat. She was tired of this, of this place, of the drugs, of the strange visits from strange people. She'd had enough. _

_"Belle," Ruby got to her feet and tried to calm her but the name made her more furious than anything the woman had said so far. _

_"Don't call me that!" she ordered. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?!" she questioned for what seemed like the millionth time. "I don't…" she felt hands on her arms and turned back to see one of her least favorite nurses. She'd been too loud, she'd lost her temper again. She tried to fight. She wanted to run so badly but the nurse held her arms tight and was applying pressure to her. _

_"Have a seat," she commanded. She sat down as ordered to, hoping that maybe if she did as she was told and took control again then maybe she could spare herself the inevitable. _

_"Has she been like this the whole time?" Ruby asked the woman. She glanced up at her, but to her disappointment she felt the prick of the needle and the world started to fade and go fuzzy as her vision seemed to narrow. _

_"More or less," the nurse's voice was deep and suddenly slower "we've had to keep her heavily sedated. Ok, let's get you back to bed!" Hands grabbed her roughly forcing her to her feet, making her take one agonizingly exhausting step after another. _

_And she thought of nothing. _

_Not even him._


	95. Intimidation

_Mr. Gold just stared at her. She didn't know how he'd managed to get back into her room. Or why he would. She'd broken that cup of his, resisted and screamed at him before, hadn't she made it abundantly clear that she didn't know who he was?! She'd hoped he wouldn't come back! But now he just sat there, his cane between his knees, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the top of it. She didn't know what to do. She was hugging her knees to her chest, trying not to look at him, pretending like his presence in this room didn't effect her. But it did, it placed her on edge._

_Should she talk? Ask him to leave, again? No, she'd already asked him to go. She was tired of repeating herself and in her experience it didn't matter much any way. He was going to do what he was going to do. And the last thing that she wanted to do was upset him. She had seen him hold fire in his hand and she was certain that he would have thrown it at that other man if the car hadn't come barreling down the street. Her memory of that night got hazier the more she thought about it. Trying to make the scenerio the nurse told her about match the memories in her head only hurt. The one thing she did know was that this man was more than he appeared. She might not have known how he had done it but she knew that she didn't want to upset him. _

_But she also didn't want to ask him how he had done it either, didn't want to ask him anything about that night. Every time she questioned people about it they only gave her the same answer: she was crazy, she'd hit her head, and she hadn't seen what she thought she'd seen. And the more she insisted, the more upset she got, the faster someone came by, put a needle to her arm and sent her back into a deep sleep. She definitely didn't want that. She had to keep him calm so that she could remain calm. And that never happened when they spoke, the best thing she could do was refuse to talk to him and hope he understood that she wasn't going to listen, that she was a hopeless cause, maybe then he would leave. _

_"I know you think you don't know me," he muttered, his voice low and scratchy._

_"I don't think, I know." She insisted looking straight ahead, not wanting to pay him any more heed. "I don't know you, Mr. Gold." _

_"I know," he said harshly, like he was sick of hearing the words. Good, she was sick of saying them "I know," he repeated "I know that's what you think. I just wish I knew how to prove to you otherwise." If he really knew her, if they really had been a part of each other's lives, that should have been easy. Shouldn't there be photos somewhere, others who could tell her that she knew him, others besides him? Like that the girl, Ruby, who claimed to be her friend! If he was important to her then wouldn't she have mentioned it. Surely she would have known him too. And then there was her family. Where were they in all of this? Couldn't he produce them for her? _

_"I had to see you again," he muttered. Of course he had to see her again. It felt like he did nothing but see her again. "I'm going to be out of town for a while. I don't know how long." _

_"Great," she said without any emotion in her voice. He was leaving? For a while? That was wonderful news. It meant he wouldn't be by to bother her for a good long time. She would rather have no visitors than him. "Have a nice trip," she added. _

_He looked disappointed and shocked at her. It appeared that her words had that effect on him. She should feel bad about it, but she couldn't help but feel that he was finally getting the fact that she didn't know him and didn't need to. "I've made a deal," he continued on, finally collecting himself and pretending like he hadn't heard the words, "an arrangement, so that while I'm gone no one will harm you," then again maybe she was wrong and he wasn't grasping that she didn't want him around. Stubborn old man. She didn't need him to make "arrangements" for her safety. She was threatened just by having him in the room. "Still, if you should have any problems, I want you to call me," he reached forward, toward the phone that sat on her bedside table._

_"Don't touch that! It's mine!" she screamed grabbing the phone and clutching it to her chest. He pulled his hand away slowly, surprised and hurt by the sudden outburst. She'd almost forgotten that the phone had been there. They'd brought in a bag for her after she woke up for the first time. The nurse said that she'd had it on her when she came in. She'd found the phone in it immediately but nothing else of value, nothing that could give her information, or prove that she knew him. _

_But, an idea struck her suddenly as she clutched the phone tightly against her. She was filled with excitement as she realized, she hadn't looked through the phones contacts yet. She'd been looking for a drivers license or a business card, it had never dawned on her to check the phone itself! Had she had the answers all along?! Had they been right here next to her and she really just hadn't thought about it? As soon as he left, as soon as he was gone, she'd go through it. Maybe that would hold a clue about who she was and who her family was. Maybe she could call someone. Maybe she could go home. _

_But the thought vanished from her mind as a man, a nurse from his clothing, stepped into the room, probably drawn by her shouts. She realized that she hadn't held her temper in, hadn't kept calm and collected, and now she'd be put back to sleep. Again! Tears immediately sprang to her eyes at the sight of the man and she shrank back into her bed. "No, please," she begged the man, Mr. Gold's presence fled from her mind, "please no more needles and drugs, please I'm fine just leave me alone! Why won't everyone just leave me alone?! Why won't everyone stop watching me?!" she screamed gesturing toward the wall made of glass beside her. The man made to take a few steps closer to her and through the windows she could see more gathering preparing to overtake her and hold her down. But then, before they could come into the room and make their way to her, he was there. _

_Mr. Gold._

_He stood up, between her bed and the doorway. He was suddenly a sturdy barrier shielding her from the hospital staff. Though he didn't appear to be that intimidating to her, a small skinny old man with nothing physically extraordinary, they stopped in their tracks. She was so amazed that her tears stopped. The room was silent as the men continued their wordless standoff. "I think we're fine here Mr. Shaffer," he said, perfectly calm, perfectly in control of the entire situation. "Wouldn't you say so?" Mr. Gold turned and glanced briefly at her, seeing that she was once again calm and turned back to the crowd she'd drawn. The nurses gave her the smallest of glances, but acted like they didn't want to take their eyes off of him. She flashed back to the image of the fireball in his hand. They'd all adamantly denied that he had done it, yet they acted like he was capable of it. There was something going on in this town, and she didn't like the feeling that she was the only one that didn't know anything about it, and that they were all trying to keep her from the secret. _

_"Just this once," the nurse muttered looking between her and him and then leaving and closing the door behind him. He watched him go through the windows, and turned back to her after he was satisfied that they weren't coming back. He held his hand over his mouth as he looked back at her, something like fear and anger flashing over his face. Suddenly he turned and moved the curtain by her bed violently across the rack blocking out the windows, so they couldn't see her. And though she'd long craved the privacy he had just given her, she shrank back into her bed, trying not to shake. What had just happened? Why was everyone afraid of him? What was he really capable of? _

_"I'll scream again," she warned when he took a step toward her._

_"I'm not!" he yelled, his hand held out to her. She could still see frustration on his face. No, not frustration, desperation. He looked like he was desperate to prove something to her, tired of trying. He took a deep breath "I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured her, his voice back to its controlled volume. It was patient but still hadn't lost his desperation. _

_Involuntarily she felt the tension in her shoulders relax. Something about the tone of his voice made her almost sorry for the man. She believed him. No matter what she'd seen him do, no matter how much he had scared her and those around her, she believed that he wouldn't hurt her. She didn't think that courtesy extended to those around her, but for some reason she believed that she was immune to his wrath. Why was that? And why did he keep coming back time and time again? "What is it you want Mr. Gold?" she asked, feeling suddenly and genuinely calm for the first time since she could remember. "Why are you here?" _

_He looked at her for a while, and she suspected he was trying to gain more control over his emotions, collect his thoughts. She didn't know what was wrong with this man physically, mentally, and even socially. But he didn't scare her. He had when he'd first come into the room. But not now. The world did. He didn't. "I'm going out of town for a while," he repeated to her again as if it was something he'd rehearsed, "You'll be safe here, but should you need anything call me." He pointed at the phone that she still cradled against her chest. "But first," he paused and instead of smiling she was met with a sneer, "I'm going to make arrangements to move you to a private room." __She felt her jaw drop. He was going to move her to a private room?! A room without windows?! A room where she wouldn't be watched constantly?! She swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to him, not knowing why he would do such a thing. "I will see you when I return. Please call if you need anything." He insisted again, and with those words he immediately turned and left the room. _

_She could hear the door close behind him, but the curtain remained drawn and she couldn't see what was going on beyond her bed. Who was he? Why was he doing such a nice thing for her? She'd done and said everything she could think of to get him to leave her alone, to make him understand that she didn't know him. Yet he seemed determined to believe that she did, determined to believe that she would believe it too some day. _

_His last words played back in her mind and remembering she looked at the phone she held in her hands. Anxiously she flipped open the screen: ordinary background, no pictures saved, no text messages. She pushed the button to view contacts. There was only one with three numbers: one for home, one for work, one for a cell phone. Beside it there was only one word to stand for the only person that she apparently needed to contact: Gold._


	96. Confrontation

_She should be happy. She was finally alone. She had the book Ruby had given her to read. Mr. Gold was gone. But she just wasn't happy. Frustrated, she tossed the book onto the table beside her new bed and pushed her hair out of her face._

_Why would he do this? Why would he give her this room? Why would he care about her? Why would no one tell her the truth? Ruby had lied too! Did they really expect her to believe that a car accident would explain it all? It might explain why she had no memory, but it didn't explain why she was with Mr. Gold, it didn't explain why her first memory was of being safely out of the car, it didn't explain how she'd seen him heal her, and it didn't explain the fire in his hand!_

_"Hey," she glanced up at the voice, expecting to see a nurse checking in on her. But instead it was another patient. He was walking with his IV pole and his head was scraped and raw. She'd never seen him before, but then again she felt like she'd never seen anyone before. So who was this? Just another person here to call her crazy? No! She was tired of it! She wanted her privacy! She was about to reach for the call button to have someone get him out of her room when he read her panicked face and said "it's ok." _

_He moved from his place at the foot of her bed, looking cautiously out the window, like he expected someone to catch him any moment. So he knew he shouldn't be here, and yet he was. Who was this man? And what did he want? "Uh, who are you?"_

_"My name's Greg, ok?" he answered quickly, with a tense voice. "I, I'm a patient here, just like you." She'd put that together, but it didn't explain why he was in her room. This was why he'd gotten it for her, to keep people away. A lot of good that had done. "I, I'm really sorry to bother you but…" he paused and looked at her with something like sympathy and desperation. He made her uncomfortable, and she really didn't care what he had to say. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts, feeble and mindless as they were. "I'm, I'm the one who was driving the car, in, in the accident."_

_"Oh," she understood suddenly. The accident that they claimed she'd bumped her head in. The one that she couldn't remember, and that there didn't seem to be any proof of. Well, maybe she'd been wrong about that. There was this man. Whole as she was, he was definitely hurt, it didn't take much to see that. She tried to think back to that night, everything was such a confusing tangled blur, but she knew that she hadn't seen him there. He wasn't Mr. Gold and he wasn't the Man-in-Black. Where had he come from? Was it possible that he was the cause of the strange lights she'd seen, the one that had sent her and Mr. Gold toppling over so suddenly? Would he know? Would he be able to make sense of the jumbled mess of events in her head, or was he just as memoriless as she was? "Are you ok?" she asked, not only because it was the right thing to say, but because she was curious about the information he could give her. _

_"Yeah," he answered "They, uh, patched me up pretty good." Well, he was walking around. She supposed if what they kept telling her had happened was the truth, then he shouldn't be doing that so soon. Was he supposed to be resting? What could be so important that it would drag him out of bed to come talk to her? _

_She gave a reassuring smile as he made himself comfortable on the edge of her bed. But she didn't feel assured, all she wanted was for him to leave. It was late. She was tired. What she really wanted to do was go to bed and try to forget about everything that had happened today. The visits that she'd had from Ruby and Mr. Gold had given her a lot to think about, and yet, somehow, not enough. All she needed was time alone to digest it. Tomorrow she could find him, and tomorrow she could ask him questions. "Look, I, I overheard you talking," he said suddenly, looking like the words were incredibly important to him "about how you saw a guy, with a ball of fire."_

_She gave an astonished laugh. This again. So much for the man being helpful and sympathetic, she knew she didn't like him for a reason! "And you think I'm crazy too," she muttered. He'd crawled out of bed just to tell her she was insane, to gawk, and stare at the girl who thought she'd seen magic but couldn't remember her own name! Could this day, could this life, get any worse! "Well, I did see it," she insisted "I…"_

_"Hey, I know that you're not crazy," he interrupted her. _

_"You do?" she'd meant it to sound like a statement, but it came out as a question. The look on his face was stunning. She expected a mocking look or even a patronizing look, but instead she saw sincere belief on his face. He really did believe she wasn't crazy. But…everyone believed that she was crazy! She should be happy, someone finally believed her, but instead it just made her hesitant. What did this mean?! What made him so confident? Did this mean he was an ally? She wanted to believe he was, but the feeling that she had deep down in her bones told her not to give into him so easily. _

_"Cause I saw it, too," now the look on his face scared her. It didn't make any sense. He was agreeing with her, but the crazed look on his face made her feel like this wasn't the kind of friend she wanted to make. Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable, in a way that Mr. Gold, or Ruby, or even any of the other nurses and doctors, never made her feel before. Alarm bells were going off in her head, telling her to run, to get away from this man, and what ever it was he wanted from her. He scared her, she wanted desperately to press her call button, but she feared what he'd do to her. She'd never been afraid of anyone like this. Not even Mr. Gold and his ball of fire. _

_"Mr. Mendell, what are we doing out of bed?!" She jumped as she glanced over at the nurse standing in the doorway with her fists on her hips. The man stuttered for a moment, just as shocked as she was at being caught, then the nurse chastised him and helped him off her bed. "This is a private room, and you are supposed to be resting," she glanced back at her suddenly, like she'd forgotten that she was there. "Do you need anything?" Protection. Reality. A friend. But she wasn't referring to any of those things. Only questioning if she needed more drugs. No, that was the one thing she didn't need, and they would happily give them to her if she gave her even the slightest hint she'd been talking about the ball of fire again. Quickly she grabbed the book on the table. _

_"No, no, I was just, uh, reading," she showed her the book. Satisfaction slid over her face before she turned and led Greg Mendell out of her room. But instead of feeling comfort, her nerves only seemed to get worse. She didn't want this to happen again. She didn't know who this man was, but she didn't want him to find her again. Tomorrow she'd ask for a different room. Maybe one on a different floor. It was extreme, she knew, but she had nothing else she could trust at the moment but her instinct._


	97. Answers

_They'd changed her room, reluctantly. She hadn't told them why she wanted it changed, hadn't told them the strange feeling she'd had when Greg Mendell had invaded her space, instead she'd just told them she wanted a different one, somewhere more difficult to find. They weren't going to give it to her, in fact they'd wanted to drug her again when she'd raised her voice. But she'd gone to battle armed with the small phone in her hand. She'd showed the stern looking nurse the number for Mr. Gold's cell phone and told her that he wanted her to call if she needed anything. She made the words a veiled threat, based only on the way she'd seen them react to him before his departure. Something about the man scared them, and so the deal seemed to come without words. They'd give her a different room, away from Greg Mendell, or she'd call Gold…_

_Within the hour she'd been moved. Now she lay in a different room, looking out the window, her mind filling with more questions than answers. She didn't know if she would have actually called him or not, but she was glad she didn't have to. What were they so afraid of? He wasn't a terrifying man? But then again she didn't know what he was…not human. Mendell had seen the fire too, she wasn't crazy but she didn't know what to think about it all now. _

_A girl with no memories. A man that held fire, that seemed to keep coming around no matter what she said. And a hospital staff that seemed to walk on egg shells whenever he was around, letting him get away with anything he wished so long as he left them alone...a courtesy they seemed to extend to her on that matter. It all meant something…but what? Was it possible? Did she know the man? _

_The sound of the world outside her closed door suddenly grew louder and she glanced over expecting to find one of the nurses, maybe even Mr. Gold or the girl named Ruby, but instead her stomach gave a nervous flop as she was suddenly face to face with another stranger. Another woman, with black hair, and black clothes, the only exception being the blood red blouse she wore. _

_"Who are you?" she asked timidly, her experience with meeting new people rarely worked out in her favor. _

_"So it is true!" the woman exclaimed, stepping forward. She wore a smile, but it didn't seem friendly. If she had to guess, she'd say the woman was gloating, reveling in being here. Why was it every time she asked this question she seemed to get an answer she didn't want, or like. Who was she? Why hadn't she answered her? "You really don't remember anything," she stated, almost happily._

_She was taken aback by the voice and the words that she'd used. It made no sense, why would she be happy she was here, alone, without a past? "Were we friends?" she asked hesitantly. _

_The woman took a moment to think before nodding "we spent some time together." She didn't expect her to say yes, but she didn't expect an answer like that either. There was something about it that was wrong. She'd taken time to choose her words carefully, and she'd smiled at them, like there was some kind of joke or secret behind what she'd said. _

_It made her uncomfortable. So far, visits from strangers only proved to be unhelpful. Mr. Gold, Ruby, Greg, and now this woman. But Mr. Gold and Ruby didn't give her the same feeling Greg had, and what she'd felt when Greg had come to see her was far different from the feeling she got from this woman. She had the strange urge to run away, to run out the door, to scream. Mr. Gold confused her. Ruby comforted her. Greg had worried her. But this woman scared her. Really and truly scared her. _

_She stepped closer to her and she couldn't help but shy away from her presence, and check the door behind her. She'd left it open. Something about that eased her, but she couldn't tell why. The woman was still moving closer, and she didn't understand her reactions. No, something wasn't right, something was very wrong. She didn't know what, or why, or how, she just knew. It was as if her past was trying to send her a warning of some kind, but they were tuned to a different frequency and she wasn't getting the entire message, just enough that told her not to trust the woman. _

_"But I'm here because I believe you can help me find something," she said. Her voice was serious, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. Find something? How was she supposed to help her find something? She couldn't remember who she was, or where she lived, or how she'd gotten there! Did this mean she knew who she was? Why hadn't she come before? And why was she happy to see her locked up this way?! "That belongs to Rumpelstiltskin," the woman prompted. _

_Rumpelstiltskin? From the fairy tale? The imp that had ripped himself in two when the queen had guessed his name? No surely not? But then who would ever have a name like that in real life? "Who?" she asked, though her body wanted her to call a nurse, she hoped that if she proved that she really didn't know anything, the woman would leave on her own without trouble. _

_"Mr. Gold," the woman pushed in an irritated voice. _

_"I, uh," but the words only confused her more. Mr. Gold's first name was Rumpelstiltskin? "I, I don't know him," she insisted, surprised at how calm she'd managed to say the words. Why did everyone keep thinking that she knew this man?! That she knew his secrets or where he kept prized possessions! She didn't know him, at least she didn't think she knew him, and she just wanted all the questions to stop. She didn't have answers for anyone, she had only questions! And no one seemed to want to answer hers. Why was she with Mr. Gold that night? How had she really been injured? What had she and Greg Mendell seen? Who was this woman? And why was she happy she was here?!_

_She opened her mouth to ask her own questions, but the woman raised her hand like she was going to touch her shoulder. She felt tired suddenly. A headache bloomed in her skull quickly making the confusing moment vanish only into a desperate need to sleep. And the world faded away before her head hit the pillow._


	98. Belief

_The phone she'd found in the bag rang suddenly, startling her from the sleep she'd drifted off into. She reached over and grabbed it looking at the small screen even though she didn't have to. She'd already gone through it looking for a something, anything that would tell her about her life, bring back a memory, a spark...anything would do! She'd take any past over no past at all. So when it rang she knew who it was, because there was only one number programmed into it, only one number that ever called her in the devices memory._

_"Mr. Gold, I, I told you before I, I don't remember you" she stuttered as she picked at the mattress. She was proud of herself for at least making this greeting somewhat polite. After what he'd done the last time she'd seen him how could she not? It was because of him that she had this room, because of his name that the hospital staff had moved her room when Greg Mendell made her uncomfortable. So, yes, she could be polite, but still, the words felt repetitive. Hadn't she made this clear already? If she knew him wouldn't he spark some kind of memory, an image, a name, anything! His kindness toward strangers was honorable, but that was all he was to her an honorable and kind stranger._

_"I, I, I know" he didn't sound normal. Maybe it was the phone. But he sounded like he hadn't gotten enough sleep, or like he'd been running and was out of breath. "I know," he repeated, but she found that hard to believe because he kept coming back into her life time after time. If he knew she didn't know him then why continue his useless mission to convince her she was someone she wasn't. "It's just," he took another labored breath "sweetheart, I, I'm dying." Fighting the name he had called her again vanished from her mind as she heard the words. She sat up in the uncomfortable bed, shocked by the news. _

_"Oh!" Her stomach tied up in a knot. That certainly explained his breathing, but nothing else. What happened? He seemed perfectly fine the last time she'd seen him. "I'm, I'm so sorry." She didn't know what to say. What did a person say to a complete stranger that called them before they died? Didn't he have someone else that he should contact? Someone that knew him better than she did?_

_"I know that you're confused about who you are," the man was dying and he called to tell her she was confused?! She wouldn't call it confused. She was no one, and she knew that. And he really should call his family, considering the circumstances. "So I'm going to tell you. _

_"You are a hero, who helped your people. You're a beautiful woman, who loved an ugly man. Really, really, loved me. You find goodness in others, and when it's not there, you create it. You make me want to go back. Back to the best version of me, and that never happened before. So when you look in the mirror and you don't know who you are, _that's _who you are." The words came out in one long ramble. Like he was afraid if he paused she might have tried to interrupt him. She didn't. She heard the words, the beautiful emotion filled words. But what he was saying, the true weight of it, took a moment to sink into her, and once it did she felt her breath catch and realized that she was crying. No, she wasn't just crying. She was upset. For him. _

_She felt…something. She didn't know what it was, but it was there. It existed in the place that she imagined her heart might live if it was capable of connecting with another human being. The feeling made her feel strangely warm, but also numb and cold knowing what was happening to him. It was the oddest sensation, like the ghost of who she was had just swept through her for a moment and was trying to tell her something, but couldn't take on a solid form. What was this feeling? What did it mean? _

_"Thank you, Belle." Suddenly the phone went dead and she stared down at it in shock, wondering what had happened to the man on the other end. Was that really the last she would hear from him? Was that the end? She'd thought that he was just as delusional as they claimed she was, worse even, for being so adamant that she was this person. But something in his voice as he said the words made her pause, his words were so pure, so beautiful. She sniffled as she fell back into her bed, keeping the device clutched to her chest as she found herself breaking down and crying over a man she didn't know. Nothing he said brought anything back. She was just as blank as she had been before he called. _

_But now…she believed him. _

_The thought startled her but as soon as she'd had it, she knew that it was true. There was no proof, no memories formed when she saw him, and she still didn't know who she was. But she believed him. No one would speak words like that about a complete stranger. She didn't know who this Belle was, but she wished she could know her, she wished she could be her. She wished she was brave enough to run out of this safe little room and go to ask him more questions. She'd never make it, they'd catch her, she'd be put back to sleep before she could get halfway down the hall. And where would that leave her? Where would it leave him?_

_He said he was dying. She couldn't remember if anyone in her life had ever died before, but it hurt like this was the first time. If what he had said was true, that meant that she really had loved him. She really had been part of his life. It would explain why she was on the road with him the first night she could remember. It would explain why his number was the only one in the cell phone they said was hers. And it certainly explained why he kept coming back, time and time again to see her. Had he loved her back? He must have! And she must have been important, at least, for him to have called like that. And now he was dying?! _

_She rolled onto her pillow and wept letting the sheet grow wet beneath her cheeks, trying not to let the nurses hear her through the open door. She didn't want him to die. She was surprised when she found herself hoping that he wasn't alone at least, wishing that she could be there for him as he had been for her. He'd been there since the first moment she could remember, trying to help her, to make her remember, to bring her back. _

_Now it was her that would do anything to bring him back._


	99. Unknown

_At first the book had bothered her. She hadn't known anything about it, but as she'd read she discovered that the author truly was amazing, and there was something to the heroics of the characters, and the plot that made her smile, took her away from the disruptive voices over the loudspeakers, various colored codes, and alarm bells. For hours at a time she found she could be somewhere else, and although she couldn't remember ever reading a book before, if this author had been one of her favorites, she could see why._

_She was calmer now, and it seemed to show as they had begun to leave her alone more and more. She felt forgotten. No one came for her, no family, at least. They'd moved her room, as she requested, but not before she'd threatened to call Mr. Gold if they didn't. She wouldn't have but the false words seemed to work on them and Greg Mendell never found her again. The girl, Ruby, who had given her the book, stopped by on occasion. However, she found that she was friendly and had started to look forward to the visits. It made her feel like she had something of a life, even if she had no memories._

_And then there was Mr. Gold…she didn't want to think of what had happened to him. He was the only one that had been there for her from the very beginning, and now he was gone. She'd gotten the wish that she'd hoped for long ago, but she found herself upset that she'd ever had the thought. He had left a void that nothing, not Ruby, not a book, not even a clear mind seemed to be able to fill. She'd come to believe the man after all, she just wished she'd believed him sooner. There was so much she wanted to ask him now. So much she wanted to say. _

_With a small sniff, she sat up in her bed, book perched upon her knee, and read on. If she focused on him too much it would just upset her. And if the nurses here even thought she looked out of order, they would dose her. It was best to play it safe, and just read, forget about Mr. Gold. _

_Someone knocked on the door and she looked up half expecting to see Ruby standing there. Her heart stopped. She felt her jaw drop in wonder and a small gasp she couldn't keep to herself escaped her. It wasn't Ruby. It was better._

_He was there! Just as if she'd summoned him herself, he was standing in the doorway. Was her mind playing tricks on her? No. He looked solid enough. Real. Whole. How was that possible? Did he have an evil twin somewhere she didn't know about? This man was smirking at her, he didn't look ill, or like someone who had just walked a fine line between life and death. "You're, you're alive?!" _

_It felt silly, obviously he was alive, she could see that. But if this life, which consisted of only weeks, had taught her anything it was that her sight was unreliable. She had to instead focus on learning the unknown. The man took a cautionary step toward her, "Indeed I am," he commented, but it wasn't said with confidence. He said it like he was just as shocked as she was. After a few moments, when he seemed to think it was safe again he began strolling, still timidly over to her. He looked as though he was waiting for her to scream, and she couldn't blame him, seeing as how all of their face to face encounters had been unpleasant at best. But she didn't feel that way, not any more. "I imagine, my last phone call was a bit alarming."_

_She looked down at the book in her lap, trying not to feel the blush creeping into her cheeks. She thought back to that terrifying call. He was right: it had been alarming. But also eye opening, and emotional…and it had given her a new life, it had made her feel something. He'd said the most beautiful words to her, powerful words. It was those words that had changed her attitude toward him. He'd made her believe him, made her believe that somehow she really did know him, that there was a reason she was on the road with him that night. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to tell him all this yet. So she settled for something safer "You, uh," she cleared her throat trying to keep tears of joy and surprise away, hoping he couldn't see what was written on her face "sounded like you were on your death bed."_

_He stood beside her, the bright light sending his face into shadows. "I'm really sorry if I startled you," the words sounded wrong, staged almost. And it didn't match the expression on his face. He did look sorry, but she could see happiness there too. Like getting to see her again was a pleasure he never thought he'd have again. The blush crept back up her neck, she knew the feeling well. "I know that you have no memory of me, but my feelings for you are real, and I just needed you to know that in case…well, in case I died." It all sounded rehearsed, like he'd stood in front of a mirror for hours practicing so that he could say just the right thing. Well, all of it except for the last bit, which sounded like more of a hopeful joke that she didn't really see the humor in. _

_"I'm glad you're ok," she said, trying to let him know that she really was happy that he was here, and wished desperately that she could undo some of their previous encounters. She was glad for that phone call, scary and emotional as it was. She needed it. And if he had the answers to her old life and whatever caused her to be in this state, then she needed him. But, yet again, the thought of saying this to him made her stomach twist into knots. Was it possible she had shared personal feelings and thoughts like this with him once? Could he read her face like she felt that she could read his? She couldn't think about that, it was too strange, so instead she returned to the topic proposed. His feelings. He was really very brave for telling her "and I could tell your feelings were true." She confirmed, knowing in her heart that it was the truth. He didn't need to have said all that, not after their last conversation, but it didn't hurt hearing it again. No one felt this strongly for a person that they didn't know. _

_"You could?" he asked, surprised by her answer._

_"I have a sense about people," she admitted proudly, happy that they could talk about her without her having to disclose the precious thoughts in her head. "I can't explain how," or where she had picked it up, for obvious reasons "but I just do." If Greg and Ruby's visits had taught her anything, that was it. _

_Mr. Gold raised his eye brows and made a quick motion between the two of them. "So, you believe we know each other?" he asked hopefully._

_"I believe," she said sternly, still unsure what to make of some of what he'd told her, like the story about the castle and the broken cup being hers, about magic, and she still wasn't sure what to make of the fire she'd seen him hold or the way he'd healed her, but she believed more than before he had called her. She needed him to know that, "that whatever caused me to forget myself means that I have a past and," she hadn't meant to ramble on but before she could stop herself the words were out of her mouth "that past probably included you."_

_He stared for a moment, the smallest trace of a smirk present on his aged and lined face before it finally widened enough to be called a smile. "It did," he said it with a whisper, like his own emotions were too much for even him to handle. Strangers didn't make each other as happy as she appeared to have made him. She wondered if this was something she had done often…made him happy. She wondered what a life with him would have been like if the one he told her about was true. Did they often talk like this? Did they often trust their secrets to each other? Was the feeling in her chest that he would answer her questions just hope…or something more?_

_She opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the courage. There were so many questions, so much she wanted to know. Would he tell her as she suspected? There was only one way to know, and she already had her first question picked out. "When I, uh," she swallowed, hard, trying to find the words "when I was injured, I…" she laughed at herself, probably he would call her crazy, probably he would tell her she'd been seeing things just like everyone else. But somehow she knew that this would be different. If he said it wasn't real, then it wasn't real. She didn't know where that knowledge came from, a voice of her past screaming at her maybe? "This is gonna sound crazy," she admitted, bracing him and her for the outcome before taking a deep breath "I remember you healing me," she said finally. It was her most prominent memory of the world outside this hospital, and she had to know. Was it true? Or had she, and Greg for that matter, really just been seeing things? Was it really all an accident? _

_She held his gaze, not willing to look like she was going to drop the topic. "You've been through a lot," he answered "serious injury, all the drugs you've been on since you've been in here…" his voice trailed off and her heart fell. So she was crazy. She hadn't seen it. "Once you remember who you are," he continued in an unexpected way, this was usually where someone told her that she was insane "it'll all become clear." _

_She looked back up at him, amazed. He didn't call her crazy, he didn't even look at her like she was crazy, and most importantly he didn't deny it. He simply watched her, a gleam in his eye suggesting that there was more to him than sight. That was ok, what she saw with her eyes in this world was unreliable. It was the unknown that was reliable, it was him she could count on: to visit her, to come back to her, and to remind her of who she was even when he was close to death. There was more to him, but was there more to her? "Can you help me do that?" she asked hopefully, "Remember who I am?" She didn't want him to go. She wanted him to stay, to talk more, and to tell her who she was and who he was. The unknown in her knew, somehow, that he was the person that knew, better than anyone, who she was. _

_"Only if you help me remember who I am," he responded strangely. _

_The words surprised her. She didn't know what she'd expected him to say, but it certainly wasn't that. "I'm sorry. What?" It made no sense to her. He seemed to know who he was. He had a name, a life, objects that he held dear, even memories of her. Why would he need help remembering who he was?_

_"Belle, you always brought out the best in me," he explained, he gestured quickly and she thought he might touch her, but he didn't. "And right now I need that," he whispered, a pained expression on his face. She remembered the phone call he had made to her before, when he had explained to her that though she was beautiful, she had loved an ugly man. She assumed that the man was him, but he wasn't ugly. He wasn't as handsome as some of the younger men floating around the hospital, but definitely not ugly. He was plain, which meant that the only way he really could be ugly was if he hadn't been referring to physical looks. Was that true? Had she once been able to see past a secret person hidden inside this man? He seemed nothing but gentle to her? "So yes," he answered "I will do everything I can to bring you back, for you and for me."_

_She could remember hearing about this Belle, the woman that he thought she was, and wanting desperately to be her. Was it possible that if she could help him bring out the best of him, then he could bring out the best in her? Did it work that way? Could she ever be this Belle again? She'd never know if she didn't take a step forward. With a timid smile and swallow, she reached her hand out and placed it over his warm ones, gathered on his cane. He let her. In fact his hands seemed to relax at her touch. How "ugly" could he really be? "We can help each other," she said, less to him and more to herself, and whatever unknown person was locked away within her mind. She wanted to be that person again, and she wanted him to be who he was with her again too. _

_"Yeah," he said with a small smirk and a look of grateful amazement. She could understand that look. Who would have thought that the crazy man would have been the salvation of the girl with no memories? "Let's talk to someone about getting you out of here," he glanced around the room and she pulled away from him a bit. She'd heard the words right, he wanted her out of the hospital! The surprises just kept on coming with this man. "You've been locked up long enough." He cleared his throat and looked down at her awkwardly "I have a house, you'd have your own room, plenty of books to read, anything you want to eat, and no one would bother you," he said "you'd be safe." _

_Her heart was pounding. Why? Excitement? The idea of having a little more freedom? Of maybe getting some semblance of a life back? Or, at the heart of it, was it that she really did want to go home with him? She didn't know what to say! Well…she knew what to say. Or she knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to shout "YES!" and take his arm and let him lead her out of this whitewashed prison right now, but somehow that didn't seem just right. Not yet. So instead, she reached her hand out again and placed it back against his own, and smiled. "I would like that," she whispered._


	100. Hazy

_She was excited, for the first time since she could remember, ever since she had magically appeared at the edge of town confused and empty. All she had known was fear. Then he'd pushed himself into her life and into her heart. The kindness of his actions, his relentless hounding, and his determination to tell her exactly who she was had worn her down. She couldn't believe that she'd ever feared him, couldn't believe she'd ever thought that he would hurt her. He had saved her. Her memory was short but she knew that he had saved her. First that night on the road, then from the intrusion of the nurses that brought on the tranquilizers, and now he was taking her away from here, away from this place._

_He'd talked to her doctor and her nurses and came back only moments later, telling her that in only a few short hours he would return to collect her. He'd left her with a bag to pack the few belongings that she'd collected in her short time at this place. Then he had looked at her with an expression that was almost tender, like she had just made him the happiest person on the face of the earth, like she was the most important thing he'd ever seen. For a moment he looked like he might even try to kiss her again. Her heart had hammered at the thought, not with fear but anticipation. But, just as quickly as the thought crossed his face, it passed and he'd excused himself telling her simply that he was going back to his house to prepare for her arrival. "I'll see you later, Belle," he'd said as he left the room._

_Belle. _

_The name still didn't trigger any memories. But he'd called her that from the very first moment she knew. It was the first thing that he'd said to her, it was the name the woman Ruby had used, and it was the name that rolled off his tongue easily whether he was healthy or on his death bed. It was a pretty name, one that she was beginning to feel a certain fondness for. Could she be this Belle? Could she ever be that person again? The one that he had spoken of with such beautiful words and desperation. She was starting to believe that she could be, to hope that there was more than this dark haze that she was living in now. _

_And so there she sat, placing the book Ruby had given her and an extra blanket someone had said she could keep into the duffle bag he'd given her, imaging what her life would be like when she would finally leave this place. There was a knock at the door, it was a little early for him to be coming for her, but nevertheless her belly fluttered with excited butterflies. _

_But when she looked up she didn't see him. _

_There was a woman there instead.__She was dressed professionally but not like the nurses and doctors and had short black hair. But it was her smile that stood out the most. It turned off those butterflies she'd just felt and made her want to shrink back into the bed. __A pain in her head buzzed to life, like her brain was mending something. __Even when she'd been afraid of Mr. Gold the reaction had never been this strong. Was this one right? Or just as wrong as it had been about him? Greg Mendell hadn't bothered her again, but was that because there really was nothing to fear from him, or because she had insisted on the room change and he just hadn't found her. "Hello," the woman greeted her in a pleasant tone. _

_She decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. She'd been wrong once before, maybe she was wrong again. "Hi," she smiled back then turned her attention back to gathering up her belongings. She would talk to her, but she hoped the woman wouldn't stay long. Something about her gave her a bad feeling, she felt as though she'd seen her before, but couldn't really place it, like there was a hazy memory in the back of her mind that wanted to break free but couldn't. When she didn't look or listen to her the headache she felt seemed to lessen somehow._

_"I don't think we've been properly introduced," the woman said walking forward. That was one way to put it. She was certain that she'd never even met the woman, nothing was familiar about her in the slightest. "I'm Regina," she said, "I'm the mayor of this town." She wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't thought about how to properly introduce herself yet. Should she call herself Belle, start using the name? Or should she ask her why someone like the mayor was concerned with a woman who had no memory? "I just wanted to make sure you're ok," Regina said answering the question for her. _

_"That's, uh, that's very thorough of you," she said through a laugh she tried to hide behind a smile. That bad feeling had returned along with the strong tingling in her head. The woman was smiling but then why did she get the feeling she was being lied to. "Thank you, but, um, I'm, I'm fine," she muttered, then smiled as she realized the words might for the first time be true. "I think I am," she inadvertently blurted out with a giggle. She said them more for herself, an acknowledgement of all that had happened in such a short time. Suddenly her thoughts were too consumed with the future to think of anything else, or of who was in the room, or why. It wouldn't matter soon. "Mr. Gold is, ah, getting me discharged," she admitted, trying not to appear overly excited, but she couldn't help it. She was. "He thinks he can, help me remember who I am."_

_"Does he now?" Regina laughed, and she was taken aback by the strange reappearance of that smile. It made her uncomfortable. Surely she must have something better to do than be here, or was there another reason behind her visit? Either way, she wanted the woman gone. She was finally leaving and starting to feel like the world around her was making sense. She didn't want that feeling to go away. So she turned away and began fiddling with some more objects, hoping Regina would pick up the cue to leave. But instead she bent down like she had dropped something. "What's this dear?" she asked holding out an object in her hand. "Did you drop it?"_

_She plucked it from her hand and looked it over. Her nerves were beginning to fray and suddenly all of her good feelings faded. Try as she could to ignore it there would always be something to remind her of how much she had lost. Like this object. It was in her room, but wasn't familiar, like so much else in her life, like Mr. Gold. "Don't think so," she told her confidently, tossing it aside. That would change, someday everything would be familiar again-including him._

_"Keep looking, dear," the woman insisted in a harsh tone. If she didn't want to leave so bad she would have screamed to have the woman removed. But the last thing she needed was for the doctors to overreact and drug her again when she was so close to her escape. With a sigh, and a frustrated eye roll she reached for the matchbook again. She wasn't that ignorant. Probably one of the nurses had dropped it. If it had been hers while she was here then she would have a memory of it. And why would she need matches while she'd been here anyway?! But she stared at it anyway, trying to appease the woman so that she would leave. _

_But suddenly, her headache seemed to peek, and her mind began to swim with a hazy feeling again._

* * *

I'm sorry there is no Lacey. Her story will be in a separate companion piece to this series titled Moment's Missed. It'll start to be published in December during the Season 3 Hiatus and I will make note of it here when it's done.


	101. His Anchor

Her life came flooding back to her as she placed the tea cup back onto the table. Her tea cup, their tea cup. On his table, in the back of the shop she had learned so well in the past few months. It was a strange feeling, in some ways it was like nothing had changed, like she'd only just woken up from a very long nap, in other ways, she knew everything had changed. She was back, she was herself, and she remembered...everything.

She didn't feel alone in her own head any more. There, also, was Lacey. She was wearing Lacey's clothes, her hair was tied in the knot that Lacey had put there. And in front of her was the man she loved. She had told him time and time again that she loved him, done remarkable things to prove it to him, but now she could also remember telling him that she didn't love him. The voice in the memory was hers, and the words had come from her mouth, but they simply didn't belong to her. She looked up at him timidly, wondering what he would think of her now, and watched as tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. She recognized them at once, though she'd never seen them before: tears of hope. "Belle?" he asked, his voice no more than a broken whisper.

She nodded and was halfway to him when she realized that she was crying too. He had nothing to fear, she was here now, and she was going to stay that way. "My Rumple!" she nodded before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, letting him grip her tighter. She was trying her best to show him that the horrific nature of Lacey was gone, that she did love him, that she loved him more than anything else in this world. And not like Lacey, not because of who he was or what he did but because of who she knew he could be and what he could do. Because of what he'd done.

She wanted to go on. She wanted more than that kiss but he pulled away, apologizing, "I'm so sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up to die," a burst of fear grew in her chest. She was back, but another problem remained, only now of course it made more sense than when Lacey had dominated her life. The town was in the process of being destroyed, and they, along with everyone else in Storybrooke, would soon be dead. "But I needed you," he continued, looking at her like she was his last hope in the world.

The fear melted away at his words. Neal was dead, and he wasn't just a stranger from out of town, as he'd told Lacey. If her guess was right, then that meant that Neal was Baelfire. She reached out and moved a lock of hair away from his tearful eyes, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say. "You lost your son," she stated, her voice breaking at the same time his face fell, confirming the hunch. It was worse than the fears he'd confided to her during their late nights.

Of course he needed her. He was a man haunted with regret and selfishness, feelings Lacey had only encouraged. But those words, they meant more to her than anything he had ever said to her. He didn't need Lacey, neither of them did. He needed her. She'd known that for a long time. She'd just never heard him say the words before now. In that moment she would have given anything for him to have taken her home weeks ago and start a new life without Lacey's memories. They would have rebuilt themselves only on a simple foundation, she would have fallen in love with him all over again, and the curse would have broken, she was sure of it. She already had been falling for him when Regina come to visit her and given her a new life that had only helped to destroy him.

Guilt and sadness seized her heart. How could she have been that cruel? She had all of Lacey's memories. She knew what had happened, and she knew that Lacey hadn't really cared, because she hadn't really understood. She could never have understood him the way that she did. No one did. No one knew just how hard he'd been working, how long he'd been searching to find his son! To have lost him so suddenly after finding him was an unfathomable blow to him. She couldn't even pretend to know how he felt. "I'm so sorry," she reached out, wrapped herself around him, and settled into her spot again, the one that Lacey hadn't discovered, she wanted to say more, to do more, but words failed her, "I'm sorry" she repeated holding him closer. It was all she could think of.

"I've failed," he cried holding her tight against him while his voice broke. He gripped her like she was the only anchor he had left in this world. Then again, with Baelfire gone, she was. That was ok, she was happy to be his anchor, happy that he now knew just how much of himself he could be with her. He would never have burst into tears around Lacey. "I've failed," he wailed again. She let him cry, she let him cling, she wouldn't have it any other way. She had never met Baelfire, not as Belle, but she found herself crying with him, his murmurings against her about failure only fueling her own devastation. Since the day she'd found out about the child she'd been so invested in the search that she felt like she'd lost him too.

They stood for a long time. She let him cry and she continued to stroke his hair and rub his back. She offered the little support she could give, hoping it was enough, knowing that it couldn't be. Finally, when it seemed like the worst had passed, she pressed her lips to his neck and pulled away to meet his gaze. His eyes were red and swollen and lifeless. He looked broken, rundown, and hopeless. He looked as old as he was, he looked like a man without purpose. And for the first time since she'd known him, she knew he was. She wiped her thumbs over his damp face before she rested her forehead against his own, still unable to think of something to say.

Suddenly another rumble shook the shop and she gasped when one of the windows broke as a tree branch came through it. The vibrations shook them off balance and they were knocked apart from the force. They grabbed desperately for the tables and the countertops to regain their stability before it finally stopped. The image seemed to sober him somewhat, bringing them back to the reality they were facing. He didn't need hope anymore, he didn't need purpose, soon he wouldn't even need her. Their inevitable fate was death. "I'm so sorry" he apologized again, as if it was his fault that this was happening, as if she could be mad at him for bringing her back when he needed her.

She only shook her head as she made her way back to him, feeling the vibrations of another shock on the way. She wouldn't dare have him feel sorry for this. She wouldn't have him be upset that he'd brought her back from a land of oblivion "I'd rather be here with you as myself, than as Lacey," she explained trying to hold back her tears of fear and sadness. The vibrations were growing stronger and before they could lose their balance, or their closeness, again she grabbed his hand and led him to the cot that he kept against the wall.

She had only meant for it to help steady them, something they could sit on as the small earthquakes continued to rock the shop. But as she sat, her dress drifted farther up her legs, and she was suddenly aware of what she had chosen to wear that morning: hose that didn't quite cover her legs, a dress that was too short, too revealing, too little and yet too…much. She had never hated a person in her life but she hated Lacey. She hated what Lacey had turned her into, what she had done to him, and how she'd defiled what never really belonged to her. She wasn't as modest as some of the holy women she'd met in their land but she did prefer an air of secrecy to herself. Especially after she'd found him, there were parts of her that she'd like to keep hidden, to keep covered, knowing that he would be the only person that would ever seem them. And Lacey had carelessly flaunted them to the world.

Embarrassed and disgusted with the garments she reached down to take off her shoes so that she could at least remove the hose. She'd rather die in her hospital gown than like this. As her trembling fingers worked she found them replaced by others, by his. "Let me" he muttered. She nodded, somewhat surprised as he helped remove her shoes and the hose that she bore. She didn't mind, he needed the distraction. And as another quake tore through the land she realized she needed the distraction too. And so she let him, he didn't stop at her shoes, he continued on, and she continued to let him. She let him rid her of Lacey as she had slowly rid Rumpelstiltskin of the Dark One and made him become who she knew he could be. If this was to be their final act then it would be one they would create together.

It was a small cot, nothing more than a small pillow and a couple of blankets but they managed. They kissed. They touched. They connected. Proving to no one in a time of destruction that their love still existed, just as pure as the brief moment she'd broken his curse, just as real as the bullet that had pierced her skin, just as magical as spell that would kill them.

No one would ever need to know of this moment, but she did. She needed to not be Lacey, she needed to feel like herself again. And she needed to know that he had never been Lacey's, he'd never touched Lacey like he touched her, or held her this way, or even kissed Lacey the same way he was kissing her now. He belonged to her and her alone. Just as no one but her could ever fit this well into his life. There was jealousy at work, no doubt there was a desire to prove this fact to both of them, but there was more love at work. In fact, she thought, it was the very definition of love making and she realized that the world would end, the forest would continue to rip through his shop, the Earthquakes would shake the foundation, and they would die. But if she had to die, this was how to do it.

Belle.

Rumpelstiltskin.

Together, until the end just as it should be.

Suddenly a strange sound echoed through the shop. They both paused and looked up at the noise by the window. His arms tightened automatically around her in an attempt to protect her should things get worse. But they didn't get worse, in fact, they suddenly seemed to get better. They watched mesmerized as the tree that had slowly been making its way into their space receded. Once it was out the glass magically healed itself, the ground had stopped shaking, and she realized the only vibration she felt now was radiating from the two of them.

She glanced up at him, breathless. "What's happening?" she asked.

His eyes finally left the glass that he had been staring at and found hers. "I don't know," he whispered. He didn't need to say it, she didn't need to hear it, neither of them needed to understand what had happened. But they both knew. They were safe again. They had more time ahead of them. But she didn't want to think about that time. It would come. For now, she wanted to focus on this moment only. "I don't care," he muttered as he shook his head, agreeing with her silent thoughts. She managed to smile before he returned his lips to hers and continued to kiss her, as if the interruption had never happened.

Afterwards, he cried again. It wouldn't be the first time, but she knew that this time the tears came from grief. She didn't mind, in fact she understood. He lay across her body with his head against her chest, his body trembling from the tears of loss he shed. She continued to give the only comfort that she can. She rubbed her hands up and down his back and through his hair, she held him close, she told him that she loved him but not that it was ok or that it would be. Because she knew that it wasn't. She knew it never would be. She paid no mind to the weight on her body, for now she could carry it, he could not. She thought that the fact the world wasn't ending, that he wasn't dying, might have made the blow worse. If he had died, then he wouldn't have to live with the death of his son. Her grip on him tightened protectively. She knew he'd get through it, even if he didn't. They'd do it together. She could be strong when he wasn't. He could be powerful when she was weak. She was his anchor to the world they lived in, to his goodness, to his humanity. And he was her wall, protecting her against all evil in and out. They would get through this.

She wasn't sure how long they had laid there together, legs tangled, two bodies as one, when suddenly his tears stopped and he went dead still for a moment. She stared down at the top of his head waiting for him to stir and give her an explanation. But she wouldn't get one. Instead he suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down in her. "We have to go!" he said, then quickly moved the blankets and left her nothing but cold air.

"Go?" she muttered, alarmed at his abrupt departure, still trying to figure out what had just happened. She grabbed the blanket he had flung off of her and clutched it to her chest as he dove for his discarded clothes and cane, faster than she knew he could move.

He glanced back at her, looking her up and down regret and panic on his face. It was like he was sorry to end their time this way, but surprised that she hadn't followed suit and gotten up as well. "Yes, please, I…I need you to trust me," he stuttered, as he sat at her side. "I have to be at the docks, something is happening, I just, I know I have to be there." She might not have known what was happening, but trusting him came easy to her. She nodded and as he got up again she swung her legs over the end of the cot and reached down to the side where he had left her vile dress. She didn't have time to find anything else to wear in the shop and didn't want to break whatever had grabbed his focus to ask for a replacement. But at least she was able to quickly redo her hair in a way she prefered, and pick up a different jacket, that was warmer and would cover her body more appropriately.

He helped her with her coat, like the gentleman she knew he was, and started to lead the way out of the room. But before he could leave their oasis she grabbed his hand "Rumpelstiltskin, wait!" She'd said it a million times already in the short time that she'd been back, but she needed to say it just one more time. She didn't know why, she couldn't figure out why she had a feeling like it was of utmost importance, but she had to. He stared at her, worried at her sudden outburst but also wanting to leave. She liked that once again she knew how he thought, the way his mind worked what all the little lines on his face meant he was feeling. Lacey hadn't been able to figure that out like she had. She smiled "I love you" she said, aware that they were the same words she'd said a year ago when her memory had come back to her. The sentiment wasn't lost on him.

"And I love you" she wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him again one more time, knowing the way that sentence should have finished. There would be time for this later, there was something he had to do first.


	102. Making Plans

There was something that he had to do first, but she had no idea what that something might be, what he might be sensing that was calling for his immediate attention. But it made him worried and panicked. It made him push forward and away from her as he sped toward the door. She could tell that he was in a hurry because he moved faster than she did. In fact, for a moment, she thought that she might actually have to run to keep up with him, but then he opened his door and stepped into the frame and stopped.

He looked around the street with amazement, like he'd never seen the town before in his life, and whatever had alerted him in the first place was suddenly gone from his mind as he stared. Once she finally caught up with him and was able to look at the world outside his shop she could understand why he'd been surprised. She could see traces of forest, trees, moss, vines, it had all invaded the town just as that tree had threatened to overtake his shop. But now all the traces of the forest, the destruction they had been doomed for, was receding and leaving the town as it had been. The damage that had been done was magically repairing itself just as the glass in the back room of his shop had. It was an amazing sight, and an amazing relief. She had suspected they were safe, felt like they were safe but seeing it confirmed made her smile. She didn't know how it had happened, but she was sure they'd find out.

Suddenly her mind remembered what had drawn them to his doorstep in the first place and she glanced up at him. It was an amazing sight, but it wasn't what had so urgently dragged him away from her earlier. She placed her hand against his arm, and applied a little pressure, not enough to push him but enough to remind him that they couldn't stay in the doorway forever. He understood the message and nodded. She tried to keep her mind on the unknown task at hand but was also experiencing another great rush of relief. They could sense each other's thoughts again! Their bond was restored, just like her memories, in fact it might have been stronger now than it was before. But she didn't want to think about the implications of that.

He led her out the door, the urgency returning to his step almost immediately. He slowed only enough to lock the door to the shop behind him. "Let's go," he muttered placing a hand at her back and leading her to the place he kept his car.

"What's happening at the dock?" she asked, remembering where they were going.

"I'm…It's…" he stuttered trying to find his words as he unlocked the car. "I can't be sure. I just know I have to be there," he answered "it's hard to explain," he muttered starting the car.

"I believe you," she breathed, but never found out if he heard her or not. He pulled out of the space as quickly as he could. There was tension on his face and she wondered if he knew what was going on and just wasn't telling her. Or if this was something he was really unsure about and it was driving him crazy because he didn't know what was happening for once. Was this a moment of déjà vu? Or was this his ability to see the future? It had something to do with Bae. She didn't think that he would have acted this way for anyone but his son…

But then she remembered.

Bae was dead. The news of that sunk in and made her heart stop all over again as she cast him a glance. It was a thought that was going to take her a while to get used to. And it would take him even longer, she suspected. Assuming it was possible for a parent to get over the loss of a child. There was nothing he wouldn't have done to get Bae back and now it had all been for nothing.

She reached over and laced her fingers through one of his. And even though she knew that he didn't like to drive with only one hand, neither could bring themselves to separate from each other. This was different. He'd never done this with Lacey. And why would he have. She didn't want to think about what he'd felt for Lacey, if anything, she wanted to believe that he had acted out of desperation to get her back. Their love was unique and tender and spiritual. It was more than Lacey could ever fathom.

Lacey had no love for him. She'd been attracted by his power, by the idea of being kept alive and young forever, and by the idea of showing everyone what she wa capable of, and that no one could force her to do anything! In some ways Lacey was a lot like her, and in others, she was the complete opposite. She almost felt sorry for the girl. She'd tried. She'd tried to feel something for him, to make the situation better for her thinking if she at least had more than attraction for him then their relationship would be bearable. But she hadn't been able too. His walls had been up, but she was the only one in the world that would have been able to see that. Now that she looked back she could see how conflicted he'd been with her then. On the one hand he'd wanted her but on the other hand he'd kept his distance from her. And it made so much sense why.

All those things she'd done: leaving him sitting alone at Granny's, encouraging him to destroy Henry, watching gleefully as he pummeled the man that she had been with after letting the leech touch her like he had. It made her sick. She'd spent all their time together trying to pull the man out of the beast and then Lacey had done nothing but encourage the beast to swallow him whole. And then there were those awful things she'd said to him. Lacey had unmistakably and mysteriously twisted words that were once her own: _"Well you know what they say, you can't tell what's in a person's heart until you truly know them," "You really are as dark as people say," "I thought you were a man who, who wouldn't let anything stand in his way," "It's just an old rag!"_ And then there was the worst of all: _"She may have loved you Mr. Gold, but I'm not her!"_

Her grip on his hand involuntarily tightened as angry and embarrassing rage pulsed through her body at the memory. Lacey had spoken the truth. Lacey never could have loved him, and so she had settled for manipulation and expertly chosen words to keep him by her side. Lacey didn't love him, and she couldn't because that was a place he reserved for her. And just like he would never give up the place that was made for Bae, he would never give up the place made for her. He'd settled for Lacey a cheap imitation, but he'd never felt about Lacey the way that he felt for her. He had never once stopped loving her.

And she did love him; more now that she did before she lost her memories, if that was possible. She shook her head as she looked out the window swiping at a tear that had fallen from the corner of her eye. He didn't notice; he was too focused on whatever was drawing him to the docks. She couldn't think about those times when that demon had possessed her body completely. She was like everyone else now, she had two people living in her head, but while others in town were embracing their two lives she was going to keep that other voice turned down as far as she could and refuse to think about what had happened when she had not been in control. He needed her, he'd said the words himself, and she was going to make sure that she was exactly what he got. It wouldn't be hard, because she needed him too.

They held hands the entire way there. And when they arrived at the dock they separated just long enough to get out of the car. When she rounded the vehicle, even when they were in a hurry, he held his hand out for her again. Yes, he was hers and hers alone. She returned her hand to its spot against his palm and looked around the place he'd brought her.

They weren't alone on the docks. Her first hint that something wasn't right was that Regina and the Charming family were all standing at the dock together looking out over the water. They were exchanging words, but they didn't appear to be fighting each other, like they usually did. No, something was very wrong. They made their way quickly over to the group gathered there, and the closer they got the more she knew that there was a problem. David was holding a struggling Emma against him. She was doubled over, and she was screaming something at Regina and to the world around her, looking like she was ready to jump off the dock and into the sea. "I don't care!"

"Without it there's no way to follow," Regina explained frantically, nearly as agitated as she could sense he was.

"There has to be," Emma said with desperation and anger, "we can't let them just take Henry!"

Her heart stopped beating in shock.

"They've taken Henry?" he asked voicing their shared confusion with a small amount of shock in his voice. The group turned to look at the pair of them and they released their hands, turning to the important matter at hand. Henry being kidnapped would certainly explain the reason Emma was so frantic and why he had sensed something was wrong. If Lacey's memories were accurate, Neal was Henry's father. Henry was his grandson.

"Yeah!" David confirmed "You're the Dark One, do something!" he commanded.

"Gold," Emma looked at him like he was more precious than a small oasis in the middle of the desert. "Help us," she breathed that same insane desperation in her voice that she'd addressed the world with.

"There's no way," he answered, and she knew that it was the truth. His voice was dead serious and full of his own panic, although she didn't know if anyone else would sense it. He really couldn't do anything. "I spent a lifetime trying to cross worlds to find my son," he explained "there's no way in this world without a portal."

"That's it?" Regina asked, disappointed. She automatically took a step back, placing herself behind Rumpelstiltskin in the Queens presence. She might have hoped that reaction to her would have faded, but it returned just as powerful as ever even in a moment when she wasn't under threat. This had been the person that had brought Lacey into her mind, the person that had separated them, the person that had caused them so much trouble yet again. She didn't want to be anywhere near her.

But Regina didn't seem to notice her. Instead of the evil maniacal glare and false smile she was used to Regina wearing there was something different. She did look angry but she also looked just as hurt as Emma did. In fact, there were real tears gathering in her eyes, and it made her soften toward her, less frightened somehow. So the Evil Queen did have a heart, someone that she cared about! She was no more a beast than he was. That revelation was almost as shocking as Henry being kidnapped. "He's gone forever?"

The group all stared at him. Looking at him like there had to be some sort of answer, some spell, that he could perform that would magically bring the boy back. But he was right. If it was that simple to retrieve someone from another realm he would have gotten Bae back centuries ago. He couldn't help them.

"I refuse to believe that," Regina said harshly, correctly interpreting his silence and shaking her head as she looked out over the water. It was like if she stared hard enough she would find the answer there waiting for her.

She inadvertently followed her gaze and saw…something. Something long was floating on the surface of the water coming out of the fog. It was definitely moving closer to them. She moved between David and Snow and squinted trying to focus on the item. "What is that?" she asked. Could it be them? Could they have come back? Did they have Henry with them? The others gathered around her and looked out at the object.

"Hook," Emma whispered. Hook? As in Captain Hook? As in the Captain Hook that had shot her? What was he still doing in Storybrooke? She figured that Rumple would have killed him since not even Lacey had caught a glimpse of him since that fateful night. "He's got the last bean!" Emma exclaimed before the group suddenly raced away from her and toward the place where Hook would dock his ship. She watched them go, only David turned back to look at Rumple.

"Can you control yourself, Gold?" he asked with real concern, casting her a brief suspicious glance. She felt a wave of embarrassment and heat rushed into her cheeks. Did they know that she wasn't Lacey anymore? That she was Belle again?

"I can worry about myself," he answered with a nasty glare at the prince. David seemed satisfied, and ran to catch up with the rest of the group as she walked back over to him and wrapped an arm through his. They couldn't run like they could, not with his bad knee, but they did walk as fast as she knew that he could.

"Can you?" she asked, thinking back to the look David had given them. He wouldn't have answered him, but he would tell her, he'd be truthful with her. Somehow she knew that much had changed between them after the Lacey situation. "Can you handle this?" she asked as they made their way toward Hooks ship.

"For now," he answered "there are more important things to worry about than the issues I have with that pirate!" he spat angrily. He would control his actions and words, but he still wasn't able to control his temper. It was understandable enough, he and Regina had caused them the most trouble of everyone else. She couldn't expect him to act as though that didn't matter, but she was happy enough that he was going to pretend. Frankly, she was proud of him, just knowing that he hadn't killed Hook in revenge for what had happened to her.

"The, uh, the bean they mentioned?" she asked as they walked down the dock toward the others.

"It's a magic bean," he explained breathless, "It can transport an individual to any realm they desire."

"They have those in Storybrooke?" she said in a shocked voice that was more of a comment than an acctual question she expected him to answer.

Nevertheless, he answered her with a simple "A lot has happened in Storybrooke since you were last here." And although she'd never been anywhere, she understood perfectly what he meant. It was as if she'd gone on a long vacation and had just come back. She much preferred that version of events than what had really happened. Finally they were on the dock, getting close enough to the group that she could make out what they were saying again.

"Enough waiting around, let's go!" Regina insisted glancing down at something that Emma held in her hand. Had Hook turned over the magic bean? Was that it?

"Go?" Hook asked "Where? I thought we were saving the town."

"We already did," David corrected.

"We need to get Henry," Emma explained calmly to him. "Greg and Tamara took him through a portal." Everything suddenly clicked into her mind. That was what had given them the idea of using a portal! That was how two non-magical strangers, that if she understood everything she thought she did, had managed to transport another non-magical boy to another realm. At least they hadn't used magic that not even the Dark One had. She shuddered at the very thought of magic that powerful. But then, why had they taken the boy in the first place? And why take him to another realm instead of just across the town line. As far as she knew only Rumple and Emma would have been able to go after him, and certainly it was safer than taking him somewhere they didn't know.

"Well, I offer my ship and my services to help follow them," Hook said, surprisingly kind and considerate. What exactly had happened to the swashbuckling pirate since she'd been "gone"? What had happened to everyone else? This wasn't the time to ask but she made a mental note to sit down with him as soon as they figured out what they were going to do and have him tell her everything that had happened in this town since she'd been "gone". If anyone would know he would.

"Well that's great Hook," Regina said with a sarcastic tone to her voice "but how will we track them?"

"Leave that to me," Rumple declared boldly as they came to rest some distance from the rest of the group. Her grip on his arm tightened as she looked the pirate over, preparing for the worst as the two sworn enemies faced off, both daring the other to blink first. And yet, each seemed equally surprised and unenthused that they had a common goal. "I can get us where we need to go," she took her eyes off Hook and glanced up at him, wondering if she had missed something. No, she hadn't. He knew the pirate was there, knew that the pirate was planning on going with them, and he was still going to offer his own services to help. A deep gasp drew her attention to the others around them, all doing exactly what she had been doing: looking at the pair of them and wondering how they were ever going to get along enough to work together.

"Then let's do it!" Mary Margaret finally said, eager to put all the tension behind them and go after the child. Her words broke the silent spell over the group. A plan decided, they began to prepare the ship to leave. She glanced back up at him, and saw him exchanging a final glare at Hook. This was going to be interesting, but it was a good thing he had made the choice to bring her back instead of keep Lacey by his side. He was going to need her for this adventure.


	103. Another Adventure

She couldn't be prouder. It seemed like everything had changed since she was last herself. The Rumpelstiltskin she knew would never consider looking at Hook without threatening him, much less, working with Hook to get that boy back. She also knew the tolerance that he was going to need in order to deal with Regina, she knew the tolerance that she was going to need to deal with Regina. Frankly the entire voyage was going to try her very being. The man that had shot her and the woman that had taken her away her Rumple, twice! Her grip on his arm tightened. It was going to be a difficult journey, but would be ok. They would help each other. She was back now. Nothing would ever come between them again. Nothing.

They followed the mishmash of people, friends and foes, down the dock. And although things couldn't seem more wrong they also couldn't seem more right. They were together, arm and arm like it would be forever. They prepared to board the vessel, and she was looking forward to what their next adventure would bring. They could do this. "Belle, I, I have to go," he stated suddenly in a nervous tone, as he pulled away from her and turned, barring her path. She didn't have time to process the words or understand why he was telling her this. She only had a moment to realize that she wasn't going to like the words that came next. "You have to stay here."

Her jaw dropped at the command. "No!" she exclaimed in a high pitched voice. "Why?!" she glanced up at the ship and everyone preparing for whatever lay ahead. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was the silliest thing she'd ever heard! Why should she stay here? He'd been working so hard to get her back and now that he had her he was going to separate them again?! She wanted to go with him; she needed to go with him. This was more than she'd ever dreamed of: she wanted to be a hero, to go on an adventure, and with him at her side she knew there was nothing they couldn't do. She didn't want to be left out and she didn't want him to face this without her. What was she suppose to do while he was gone? Sit around and wait like before? No, never again! "I, I want to help!" she insisted.

He took a step closer to her, a look of desperation on his face. "The town is no longer safe," he blurt out.

She furrowed her brow, in all the ways she thought he might try to leave her behind, to keep her safe, leaving her in the unsafe place wasn't one of them. "What?"

"What?" he glanced over at David who appeared to have overheard their conversation, and looked just as surprised as she felt. The evil that had invaded their town was gone, they were going after Greg and Tamara now, so what was the problem?

"Well, Greg and Tamara weren't working alone, others will follow," he explained, his eyes moved between the two of them but lingered on her for a longer period each time. It scared her. The last time he had looked at her like that he had gotten her back after the incident with the Wraith. He had been watching her like he was in a dream and would wake up and lose her again at any moment. It had been heart-breakingly sweet, then. But it didn't feel this way now. It made her uneasy.

"No, we can't leave people in danger," David's voice kept interfering with her thoughts. She knew the reason he was there, but something was wrong and she wanted to take a moment alone with him to figure out what she wasn't grasping. Had she missed something as Lacey? No, all of her time was accounted for. So what was it then? Why was he looking at her like that?

"After we've gone," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny scroll wrapped with a small piece of red thread. "Follow these instructions," she plucked it from his hand and looked it over, barely the width of her little finger, what were the instructions? When had he had time to put together instructions? Had he done it magically? How could he have known this would happen? They'd barely had a moment alone after she'd gotten her memories back that he had announced they needed to be here, and she knew he hadn't been putting that together in the space between. She would have blushed at the memory if there weren't more important things racing through her mind.

"It's a cloaking spell," he informed them, calming David's nerves but making hers sizzle. This was why he was leaving her behind! So that she could be the one to protect the town! She'd always longed to be a hero, but did he really expect her to do magic? She didn't have an inkling of what to do when it came to that dreadful subject. Magic was his area of expertise. Why not give it to someone who knew what they were doing, maybe he expected her too? "It'll shield the town making it impossible for anyone to find."

She nodded at the explanation, it was a good plan, a good way to keep the town safe. A good way to make sure no one could ever come into the town. Her mind stopped as she processed the words and her mind stumbled across something that made her heart plummet. If he was going, and she was staying, a fact she was beginning to accept, and the spell was meant to prevent anyone from finding the town…she stared at him.

This had to be a simple misunderstanding! He had to have some plan! Some answer! Didn't he always? Unless this was the reason for that look in his eyes. That look that made her think he was memorizing her face in case he never saw her again…

"But how, how will you find your way back to me?" she asked, trying to do her best to keep her emotions from running away with her. She expected a response, a simple answer for the question like he always seemed to have for everything. He'd say a few words and she would feel silly for doubting him. But when he looked at David and they exchanged glances that told him to leave the two of them alone she began to panic. Where was his answer? He always had one. Her chest tightened and her heart felt like it was breaking. He didn't need to say the words, they were written across his face, plain as day. It was her worst fear. "You're not coming back are you?" she couldn't help her feelings anymore and her voice cracked on the last words. She shook her head because she couldn't believe the words, couldn't fathom the idea of never seeing his face again. There was so much they'd never done. There was so much they'd never experienced. He couldn't just leave her like this. It couldn't be the end.

"The prophecy," he exclaimed "the boy is my undoing," he reminded her delicately. She had to search her memories, no, not hers, Lacey's memories, in order to figure out the meaning of his statement, but it was there. She could remember him telling her, Lacey, that to live forever didn't mean that he couldn't die and that there was one person who could kill him. Henry was the boy he'd been talking about? "But he's also my Grandson," he continued, a look of acceptance and determination on his face. "I must save him," she couldn't have planned for this news, not in a million years. He was going to save Henry, and he assumed that in saving him he would forfeit is own life.

She never would have guessed that he would separate them purposefully knowing that he wouldn't come back. She couldn't ever remember being this sad. She couldn't find the words big enough to describe it. She felt a sudden urge to reach out and force him back to the shop, to keep him close, to prevent him from going. But beneath her urge to protect and keep him close was something else.

She was suddenly feeling a swell of pride for the man before her. A pride that gave her hope that he was wrong. She knew what Lacey's memories had told her, she knew that there was a time he hadn't felt this way about the child, and yet here he stood, willing to work with two people he called enemy and risking his own life to insure Henry's safe return. Didn't he see it? The boy had already been the key to his undoing; it just wasn't in the way that he thought. And if the prophecy had already come true then maybe there was hope after all. "I must do this to honor Baelfire," she must have looked resistant; he wasn't just explaining any more, he was trying to make her understand. "He's gone, and I didn't even get the chance to say good-bye."

She had promised herself that she would never be jealous of his son, but it seemed like in her absence and Baelfire's presence he had become the man she always knew that he could be. There was fear on his face but there was a new look that came with it. It was a look that she'd never seen before. It was courage. And as happy as she wanted to be for it she couldn't because seeing that look she knew that she had no choice. She closed her eyes trying to choke back tears, trying to be as brave as he was. She had to let him go. And she would have to stay behind. He needed her to do this. If she asked he would stay, but if she did that, then she wouldn't be the woman he loved. The woman he needed like no other.

Lacey might ask him to stay, Lacey wouldn't care about keeping him close or safe, only about the status. And that was why she could never have made him truly happy. She did care, she couldn't let him miss the chance to save Henry and honor his son in the process. She took a deep breath; honor, not avenge. He really couldn't see that he was a different man already? "I understand," she tried to smile but she just couldn't. She understood but that didn't make it any easier. She was going to cry, there was no way around it. But she wanted to be brave for a moment longer. While she still had him. "But I also know," she stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. He still had to learn that he wasn't a monster but it wasn't going to be her that taught the lesson, it would be the boy. "That the future isn't always what it seems," she watched him. It was a lesson she'd learned all too well herself. If someone had told her this was where life would take her, that the beast that took her from her fathers castle would be the greatest love of her life, she would never have believed them. The future wasn't always as clear as they thought, and they were living proof of that...she just wished he'd see it too.

He was sorry he was going to leave her, but he wasn't sorry that he was going. She didn't need to guess at what he was feeling or read his face because she knew that it was the exact same thing that she was feeling. He wasn't going to say good-bye, it was too final, and he wasn't going to tell her he loved her. She wouldn't either. They'd already said it, and besides she didn't need to hear it, because she knew it. But there was one thing he wasn't aware of, and he couldn't leave without hearing it, because she needed it to drive him and motivate him so that he wouldn't resign himself to a future that might not exist. There was something to self-fulfilling prophecies, and she needed him to fight against that. Because if there was no him, then there was no her, "I _will _see you again."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't an assumption. And it wasn't an option. It was an order. And it was one that she expected him to follow. Because if she didn't expect it, then that meant she had to expect a different outcome, and she didn't want to live in the world where that outcome even had a possibility of existing. So she kissed him: madly, deeply, passionately. She had to, if she didn't do something she was going to lose her head and she wouldn't let that be his last memory of her. She put everything she had, everything she was, into that kiss. Letting him feel her sadness, her love, the pride she had for him, and taking back the same from him. Her arms were around his neck, holding him as tight against her as she could all the while feeling his arm trying to draw her nearer to him. She didn't care who was watching, or what they would think, for that moment they were the only two people in all of the realms.

She wasn't sure who pulled away first. Maybe they both had, knowing that it had to end somewhere. She saw him glance at her before he closed his eyes again and they rest their foreheads together taking in each other's very essence, storing up for the long separate journeys. She would miss this; miss the way he kissed her, the way he held her, the way they fit together like two puzzle pieces. But she hoped that he would take the memories with him, like she would be keeping them here. She hoped he would look back on this moment when he needed it most; that it would give him hope when he had none, calm when he needed peace, and happiness when he felt dread. But she also hoped that it would be enough for her. She knew from experience that she wasn't going to feel whole again until he returned.

She felt herself sniffle and stifle the mournful cry that escaped when she wasn't focusing on it. She released him. It had to be done. Her cry had not gone unnoticed by him and he was looking at her with a face of deepest regret and guilt, knowing that he was breaking her heart yet again. She didn't want to risk having him change his mind because of that. The plan was solid, they just needed to be brave enough to act on it. So she glanced up at him and smiled. Though sad and pained at their separation she wanted to remember the look of courage the most. It truly was the most amazing transformation she had ever witnessed, she wasn't sure if anyone else would believe it, or if anyone would ever see it the way that she did. Where a cowardly beast had once stooped at the idea of sacrifice, now a courageous hero stood proud ready to leave everything behind for the notion. The future was not what it always seemed.

She couldn't be prouder of the man she saw. And that fact only made her want to weep tears of joy instead of the sad ones coming on now. No matter which tears she would shed, she had to leave before that happened. She could already see his gathering when she turned away from him to go. But it wasn't her opinion of him that mattered at the moment. He needed that reminder, he needed to know. She turned back, fighting to hold in her tears at the sight of him. "Baelfire would be," she swallowed hard, losing her battle, "would be very proud of you." He nodded, and she saw the same battle raging inside of him at her words. She knew, as much as it hurt her to leave, it pained him even more to be the one sending her away, to be the cause of her suffering. And before she could say something she'd wish she hadn't, or he could do something he'd regret, she turned and walked away, holding her hand to her mouth and doing her best to keep her wretched sobs quiet so he wouldn't hear.


End file.
